


when you hold me my body is a weapon

by Accursed Ashiya Sword (Ellisama)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Coming Out, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Felix's gay awakening the fic, First Time, Hair-pulling, Identity Reveal, It's jeritza what did you expect, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, M/M, Maybe the true porn was the friends we made along the way, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Possessive Sex, Relationship Reveal, Rope Bondage, Size Kink, kinkmeme fill, no beta we die like Glenn, with a dash of humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:01:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24671254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellisama/pseuds/Accursed%20Ashiya%20Sword
Summary: Jeritza teaches Felix more than just swords, and it's all going great behind locked doors until Flayn gets kidnapped and Felix finds out that his sort-of boyfriend is actually the Death Knight! Good luck explaining to everyone why you were in his bedroom in the first place, Felix! And why is Dimitri looking so... jealous?Kinkmeme fill with a lot of porn and some plot.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Jeritza von Hrym
Comments: 151
Kudos: 261
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	1. in which Felix discovers he likes more than just swords

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Felix and Jeritza start fucking pretty early on in the academy days because Hot Sword Boy Stab Good. They hook up in Jeritza's quarters because it's more private than the student dorms.
> 
> When Flayn goes missing, Felix is suspicious of Jeritza like in canon, but he still goes to get that nice tall boy dick. While Jeritza is snoozing after, Felix notices something seems kind of weird about the room...and ends up discovering the secret passageway where Flayn has been hidden by TWSITD early, leading to a really fraught escape scene and a lot of freaking out, especially when Jeritza wakes up as they stumble up to his room but surprise, he's the Death Knight instead!
> 
> I'd love either this particular scenario or the aftermath, where Felix has to admit he's been fucking the Death Knight and all of a sudden everyone knows. Made worse by the fact that he actually kind of liked Jeritza and now he's mad about it. And also, Flayn keeps hanging around him for some reason! Annoying, but she's actually a pretty good listener...
> 
> link: https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=1378780
> 
> _Update:_ now with fanart! [by @Ariaanna66](https://twitter.com/Ariaanna66/status/1291019551778287629) Thank you so much 😭😭😭

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *quietly de-anons* Look... if you know me.... pretend you don't.

The Academy is a clean break from stuffy Fraldarius and all its outdated ideas. The constant proximity to the Boar is a slight downside compared to the freedom from his father’s ever-watchful eye. Felix takes it in stride.

Of course, there is no real escape. The same fools that proclaim chivalric ideals run amok at Garreg Mach, but at least they’re not afraid to fight him when he disagrees with them. It’s exhilarating: dueling a worthy opponent, going toe to toe on the training grounds, being floored and pinned against the ground, a hot strong body challenging him to keep pushing, keep going…

It’s awakening things within him he never imagined. He doesn’t hate losing, especially if it means the tall and mysterious fencing instructor named Jeritza will spend another hour explaining to him the finer details of successfully parrying a stronger opponent.

Felix swallows deeply when Jeritza’s front touches his back slightly - radiating heat, their previous duel had been a good one - while he rearranges his body into the proper sword form. The sun slowly sets in the east, and Felix is sweating and panting, not entirely due to the fact that they have been fighting for hours.

“You show promise, but you are fueled by anger,” Jeritza says, his voice so deep and low. “Once you can detach yourself from emotion, your swordsmanship will become far more efficient.”

His breath is warm against Felix’s ear, and the damned, teenaged, hormone-ridden part of Felix’s brain files it away for his dreams later tonight. Heat rushes to his cheeks and Felix bites his bottom lip to ground himself. 

He’s not like Sylvain. Glenn always watched him like a dog in fear that Felix would follow his salacious footsteps, and after his death his father took over, although more distantly. Felix never understood why either of them were so afraid since he never showed any inclination towards dating, women or sex. However...

Jeritza’s hands move lower until they’re on top of his own. “Your grip is too tight. Loosen it, but not too much. Imagine you’re cradling a delicate egg: hold it tight enough not to drop it, but loose enough not to break it.”

Felix nods, his blood quickly pooling south. He never understood why Sylvain would immediately become a fool for any supposedly pretty woman, but he’s getting it now. Jeritza’s long fingers expertly wrapped around his own, warm and strong, he can’t help but imagine what other things he could hold like that.

 _Focus Felix!_ he reprimands himself mentally and tries to follow Jeritza’s instructions. Swords. _Swords_. No, not that kind of sword! Wooden swords, blades of steel, cutting and slashing and thrusting and - 

Jeritza’s fingers stray a little longer than necessary on his own. It’s not the first time, but Felix is unsure what to read into it. He’s far from an expert on this. He could probably ask Sylvain but he would rather die than admit he is distracted by attraction - to a man, especially!

“Are you paying attention?’ Jeritza says almost teasingly.

Felix turns around, bright red and mortified, his sword raised high. “I am ready to try again.”

Jeritza looks at him for a moment, his long hair is slightly disheveled from their recent bouts, very distracting. It’s roughly the same length as Felix’s own, although he never wears it loose as he does. 

Jeritza seems detached most days, but sometimes his voice dips even lower, and his hands roam too long, like today. Looks at him a little bit longer than truly necessary, and then some. He’s hard to read, and the mask doesn’t help, but they’re spending hours and hours together, often until the sun sets below the horizon, and Felix knows that besides Mercedes, Jeritza doesn’t pay much interest to the other students. But his eyes burn into his skin, run over his body. Felix feels naked and clings to his sword, the only thing in this damned situation that is familiar.

Jeritza doesn’t pay attention to the other students, but he is paying attention to _him_. And Felix likes it. Likes it a lot, if the tightness in his pants is any indication.

Then, Jeritza suddenly averts his eyes. “No, you’re done for the day.”

Felix growls. “I can still fight! The sun hasn’t even set yet!”

Jeritza doesn’t listen. Instead, he sheathes his sword and turns around. “You still have much to learn.”

“Then _teach_ me!” Felix challenges, and takes a step forward. He doesn’t know exactly what he is asking for, but it feels good to crowd into Jeritza’s space, to breathe the same air.

Jeritza raises a single eyebrow but doesn’t unsheath his sword. Instead, he raises his hand and pushes a stray lock of Felix’s dark hair back behind his ear. 

Felix gasps involuntarily at the contact. He can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this. The last time he let someone get that close.

Jeritza’s hand lingers, and every bit of skin he touches feels like it’s on fire. Then, slowly, agonizingly so, he leans forward. Lets his hand wander down Felix’s jaw, until he gently cups Felix’s chin, and tilts it up.

Felix gulps. Jeritza’s grip is firm, but not too much. He is giving Felix every opportunity to turn away, but Felix doesn’t. Instead, he opens his lips to say something - _anything_ \- but nothing but a breathy sigh comes out.

“There is much more I can teach you,” Jeritza purrs, his voice low and intend unmistakeably. “But not here. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes,” Felix stammers out, struggling to say the words when Jeritza’s fingers gently caress his skin. 

Jeritza wets his lips, and for a moment Felix thinks he will kiss him. Panics, because he doesn’t know how to kiss to save his life. But Jeritza doesn’t. Instead, he bends forward, and breathes into Felix’s ear: “Tonight, after curfew, come to my room, and I will educate you.”

Felix nods, breathing heavily. 

Then, as if nothing happened, Jeritza breaks away, straightens himself, and leaves Felix behind on the deserted training ground. It takes Felix significantly longer than usual to calm himself down long enough to look anything close to normal, but he’s still rattled when he makes his way to the dorms. Of course, nothing good ever lasts, and he is too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice the Boar standing right there until he walks into him.

“Watch out!” He demands roughly.

“Oh, my apologies Felix.” Dimitri looks up at him, puzzled. “Say, Felix, it is none of my business, of course--”

“It isn’t.”

“-- but are you feeling alright? You look a bit flustered. Are you certain you’re not coming down with the flu?”

Felix feels himself heat up, if that was at all possible, this time in mortification. “I am _fine_! Watch yourself, it’s not like you’re a paragon of health!”

He doesn’t wait around to hear whatever excuse the Boar has to explain the dark circles underneath his eyes. _Whatever_. It’s not Felix’s problem, as much as his father would like it to be.

He stomps into his room, slams the door shut, and tries to focus on his homework. The rest of the night progresses at an agonizingly slow pace, and Felix suddenly understands why Sylvain never bothers turning in his classwork because if this kind of sexual endeavor is anything, then it is _highly distracting._

Felix palms himself through his pants. It’s something he rarely indulges in, but now his hands feel even less satisfying than usual. He closes his eyes and imagines long fingers curling around his own, grasping firmly but not too firm.

He moans loudly, far too loudly. Curses his teenage body, and hopes fiercely that after tonight, his thirst will be sated for the upcoming month or so. He isn’t here for games, he’s hear to become stronger, and this stupid attraction is not helping.

~~**XXX** ~~

Felix sneaks out of his dorm room unnoticed. He never bothered learning where the knights sleep before, but some trial and error quickly lead him to Jeritza’s room. It’s cozier than he thought it would be. An ancient bookshelf next to a private fireplace, and a larger bed than his own, covered with a delicately sown blanket that looks a tad childish for a man like Jeritza. Felix doesn’t comment on it when looking for the man in question. He doesn't have to search for long.

“So you came,” Jertiza says huskily, appearing behind him. He is not wearing a shirt, Felix quickly finds out when his warm chest presses against Felix’s back in a far more intimate imitation of what happened at the training yard earlier today.

Felix bites back a moan and melts against his hot, chiseled chest. “Of course, I'm not a _coward_ ,” he says far more confidently than he feels.

“You are not a coward, for certain,” Jeritza compliments him, his hands tenderly finding their way towards Felix’s chest. He decided against wearing anything special, but Jeritza doesn’t seem to mind, his fingers already making quick work of the buttons of his academy uniform. 

“But tonight is not about courage. Tonight is about _pleasure_ ,” he rasps into Felix’s hear, and Felix almost chokes on his own tongue when Jeritza traces his nipples through the thin fabric of his white shirt. His vest ends up forgotten on the floor.

“And you think you can show me pleasure?” Felix challenges, trying but failing to stay in control of himself, to stay on top of this game they’re playing, even if he doesn’t know the rules.

Jeritza laughs, his mouth tantalizingly close to Felix’s ear. “Show? Oh no… that would be too easy. You are a fighter, a duelist, would you enjoy this as much if it was merely given?” Felix doesn’t answer but bites his lip to stop himself from reacting to Jeritza’s hand dipping lower and lower, never quite touching his cock. “I will teach you how to please… and how to be pleased.”

“You’re awfully sure of yourself.”

Jeritza moves forward, and Felix cries out from… _something_ that isn’t pain, when he takes his earlobe into his mouth. A little suck, the tiniest of bites, and Felix feels himself harden. Jeritza’s hands hold him, ground him, and he can’t help but wonder what else those hands can do, and those lips…

And then, suddenly, all heat is gone. Felix almost falls backward, his mind dizzy from the sudden loss. He looks behind himself to see Jeritza smiling at him. It’s nothing like the small tilts of his lips he has seen before on his face. No, this smile is greedy, slightly unhinged, and oh so smug. Felix is as aroused as he is irritated.

“I am an experienced teacher,” Jeritza simply says and walks towards the bed. “And you will find that having some experience in these… _interpersonal relationships_ … can be beneficial in other areas too.”

Felix puffs out a breath, trying not to sounds as winded as he feels. “Such as?”

“Diplomacy, for one, Lord Fraldarius the Younger,” Jeritza says, and why is his voice so damnably low? 

_Well,_ Felix thinks, feeling a little crazy himself, _his father has been on his back for ages about getting people to like him, and behave more like the heir he is (like Glenn was, but that’s a cursed thought he would rather banish than entertain right now.)_

Determined to be nothing like his brother, Felix shimmies out of his white shirt and lets it fall on the ground. His chest isn’t nearly as broad as Jeritza’s, but to his own surprise, he finds he doesn’t mind that his teacher is taller and wider than him. He takes off his boots unceremoniously, feeling a little bit odd. Undressing is supposed to arouse your partner right? Jeritza looks wholly unaffected, sitting there on his bed, watching Felix with only mild interest. It’s unfair because Felix has never been this hard in his life.

As soon as he starts fumbling with his pants, Jeritza motions him to come closer. Felix decides to follow his guidance… for now.

Jeritza opens his arms, muscled and scarred but not in a bad way, and draws Felix into his lap. 

“If I do something you don’t like, tell me,” he says, his eyes dark, even behind the mask. It’s.. intense. An unparalleled focus, burning, and brilliant, and it’s centered on _Felix_.

Felix scoffs, averting his gaze before he combusts. “You won’t. I can handle this.”

Jeritza strokes his hair, undoing his bun and tangling his hands into Felix’s hair. “Be honest with yourself, if nobody else. Tell me if I bring you pain… unless it also brings you pleasure.” 

As if to prove his point, he bundles up Felix’s hair, and pulls slightly, baring Felix’s throat.

Felix gasps out, but it is not in pain. Quite the opposite. His nerves are on fire, and he grips Jeritza’s shoulders like a lifeline, digging his nails in.

Jeritza doesn’t seem to mind and instead pulls Felix closer. “Do you like this?” He says huskily, his lips inches from Felix’s, taunting him. “Do you like it when I push your limits?”

Felix can’t help it: he groans loudly, both from the sensation of having his hair pulled as well as the unmistakable feeling of Jeritza’s clothed erection rubbing against his own. It’s hard, large, and everything Felix never knew he wanted, he _needed._

“Use your mouth, boy. Or I will find a better use for it.”

Felix pants loudly, almost tempted to keep his mouth shut, just to see what will happen if Jeritza follows up on that threat. He doesn’t seem one to make empty threats, and it excites Felix more than anything.

"Answer me," Jeritza demands, and pulls again, harder this time. 

Felix feels dizzy with want, even if he doesn't know exactly what that is. “Y-yes…”

Jeritza’s lips curl into a salacious smile. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, I like it!”

“Good boy,” he breathes, and leans in, capturing Felix’s lips aggressively, expertly. 

Felix moans, the sound silenced by urgent lips pressed against his. He tries to go with the rhythm, the push and the pull of lips but has trouble keeping up. It’s unacceptable. When Jeritza pulls back, he surges forward, putting in everything he knows about kissing. It’s clumsy, teeth nipping into the skin a bit too many times, but Jeritza doesn’t seem to mind. His hands wander, and Felix follows his example. It’s an unexpected joy to feel muscle flex underneath his fingertips. So different from his own, but so much better for it, and for the first time in years Felix feels alive.

When they pull apart, Jeritza gives him less than a second to recover before he dives in again, his teeth sinking into his collarbone with vengeance.

“Ah!” Felix cries out, his cock jumping at the sensation. He never considered himself a masochist, not like Sylvain and his self-destructing tendencies, but maybe he was mistaken because the sensation of Jeritza sucking marks into his skin feels like _heaven_.

 _They’re going to be visible tomorrow,_ he thinks. He finds he doesn’t mind. _Wants_ them to be there, even if he will cover them underneath his clothing. Like bruises at the end of a fulfilling practice, the quickly darkening hickeys in his neck feel like trophies.

He’s painfully hard when Jeritza finally releases him. His lips are slightly swollen, and Felix wants to bite them, make them even redder. Somehow he doesn’t think Jeritza will mind.

But there are other things he wants, too, so he pushes Jeritza back until he is lying on his back on the bed, with Felix on top of him.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?’ Jeritza says dryly.

They both know the answer is no, but that doesn’t stop Felix from clawing at Jeritza’s breeches until they finally come off. He is probably supposed to go slow with this, but the sight of that bulge hidden beneath his underwear is challenging him, and he has never backed off from a challenge before.

Jeritza’s erection leaps from his smallclothes with fervor when Felix finally frees him It’s… bigger than his own. Understatement. 

Felix licks his lips. Thinks about it for a second. He doesn’t mind that, he realizes, his eyes running over the swollen cock in front of him, the thick vein and the uncut head. No, he doesn’t mind at all. 

He reaches forward, imagining that cock is a sword. He wraps his fingers around it, gentle enough not to hurt, but firm enough not to lose his grip. It’s hot, in more ways than one. 

“You look positively _starving_ ,” Jeritza praises him breathlessly, finally letting some of the passion he had been hiding in his pants seep into his voice. “Do you want to taste me?”

 _Does he?_ He doesn’t know. It’s awfully intimate, putting your mouth around someone’s cock. But he isn’t opposed to it, not in the slightest.

Jeritza takes his hesitation as an answer and uses his distraction to flip them around. It’s effortless, and only when it is Felix sprawled out on the mattress does he fully understands how much larger Jeritza is than him. 

_House Fraldarius is doomed,_ he thinks faintly, while Jeritza undoes his pants, all but shreds his underwear and bares his cock. 

Without any further warning, Jeritza dips his tongue into the slit of his cockhead, and Feix _ignites_. It’s nothing like his own hand, nothing like his best fantasies, and it gets even better when Jeritza wraps his lips around Felix and engulfs him in wet, delicious heat.

“Oh, goddess, fuck!” Felix cries out and throws his head back into the mattress. He tangles his hands into Jeritza’s hair and feels him suck the life out of him. He tries to move his hips upward into that glorious feeling, chase the orgasm that is approaching at an alarming speed but finds it impossible. Jeritza’s grip on his hips is unbreakable, and it’s only fuel to the fire.

He feels like he is on aflame, lightning shooting through his veins, and he can not for the life of him keep still. He’s moaning, a trembling mess, but every suck drives him closer to the edge. For once in his life, Felix doesn’t care about anything at all.

“I’m going to--- going to----” He cries out, warning both himself and Jeritza. He doesn’t know what he will do if Jeritza stops right now, but he doesn’t. Instead, he doubles down, going down on him harder, faster, deeper. 

Something slippery touches his ass, circling his rim, presses up past that tight ring, and Felix chokes on his own tongue. He’s so close, it’s so good, even better when that finger sinks deep inside him and fucks him like a slut.

It’s entirely too much. Time slows, and the molten lava in his groin explodes, sending waves of pleasure through his body as his come is sucked out of his cock as if it is a delicacy. He comes and comes, harder and more plentiful than he ever has before by his own hand, and Jeritza swallows it all. 

When the aftershocks finally calm down, Felix goes limp on the bed, overstimulated in the best possible way. 

Jeritza pulls off his cock with a filthy slurping sound that Felix likes more than he will ever admit. “You react beautifully,” he says and licks his lips. “And you taste divine.”

Felix is way too far gone to really react properly to that, even if he knew how to. He’s tired, but something tells him they’re not done. 

Jeritza pushes his slick finger deeper inside Felix’s ass, making him cry out. It’s… not bad. Just _a lot_ , after coming so hard. He squirms under Jeritza’s watchful gaze.

“Have you ever done this before?” Jeritza says, and to get his point across drives his finger up higher.

“Obviously not!” Felix pants, feeling too far blissed out to be as humiliated as he should be.

“Not even to yourself?” Jeritza wonders, and then slowly adds a second finger. It feels… odd. But a good kind of odd. “You take me so easily, for a first-timer.”

“Shut up!” Felix cries out, feeling embarrassed, the heat taken from his words by the feeling of being penetrated. He eyes Jeritza’s cock, still hard and swollen. His own is only slowly coming back to life, but even fully erect it doesn’t come close to that size.

He never considered taking a cock, but now that it’s right there, it’s a challenge, and one he is eager to master. Jeritza promised to teach him, after all.

Jeritza chuckles and presses deep inside of him. “Perhaps you are just eager to be taken. Made for this. You’re so tight but so responsive. And look how easily you’re hardening again… ”

It’s humiliating how much those words arouse him. “It’s just… nature,” he grits out, trying to sound threatening, but failing. He’s a mess, and although the words make him slightly insecure, it’s doing wonders in other areas.

“I have laid with many men in my life, but none have responded so beautifully as you do. I wonder how you will sing once I sheath myself inside you.”

Felix is a horrible singer, and everyone knows it. Besides, he’s getting a little irritated by the smug look on Jeritza’s face. He resolves to keep his mouth shut, even if it kills him.

It almost does when Jeritza pulls his fingers away. It’s a loss he never expected to mourn, and he bucks his hips up involuntarily. 

When Jeritza smiles, it belongs to a predator. “Turn around.”

“Why?” Felix says petulantly.

Jeritza takes a bit of flowery smelling oil from the container, that Felix completely missed when it was opened. “Turn around. Unless you want to stop. I will not hold it against you. But…,” He drawls, fisting his own cock roughly, and Felix follows the movements with fascination. “If you truly wish to feel pleasure, do as I say, and get on your hands and knees.”

Felix swallows deeply, feeling breathless. Considers getting up for a brief moment, just to spite that arrogant prick. _Who does he think he is?_

Then Felix's eyes are once again drawn to that prick’s cock. Long, thick, and glittering with lube. Goddess, he’s never wanted to take anything up the ass before but right now he thinks he will die if he doesn’t get filled within the next ten seconds.

He bites his bottom lip, turns around, and lifts himself to his hands and knees. He closes his eyes, shame and lust burning in his gut in equal measures. He’s propped up like a proper slut, and worse, he _likes _it.

“You seem to enjoy a little pain alongside your pleasure,” Jeritza draws, his hand ghosting over the skin of Felix exposed asscheeks. Gentle, but promising something else. “But tell me if I go too far. I enjoy it when my victims squirm, but not beyond their limits.”

“I can take it,” Felix grits out.

He feels a warm, thick heat press against his entrance. “We will see,” Jeritza says, and then pushes his cock into him in one sharp push.

Felix’s eyes shoot open, tears gathering in his eyes. He feels full, far more than before, and it hurts more than a bit. But then Jeritza moves deeper, deeper and deeper until he touches a spot inside of him that makes all of that pain clicks into place and feels wonderful. Felix howls, his hips stuttering in thin air. White light shoots past his eyes, and he feels so full and so good. No, not just _good_. Addictively, mouth-watering, earth-shattering good. 

“Yes,” Jeritza drawls, slowly fucking into him, every thrust a little easier as Felix’s body makes way for his cock. “Open up for me, take me!”

Felix pushes back, determined to give as good as he gets, even if he has no idea what he’s doing. The fire in his stomach is building into a storm of pleasure, and it all feels so much better than he ever imagined. That wonderful bundle of nerves inside sends him closer and closer to a second orgasm, his legs trembling from the strength of Jeritza’s powerful thrusts. _Goddess_ , how is he ever going to go back to masturbating after this? 

Jeritza is a force to behold behind him, absolutely unrelenting. His pace is merciless yet controlled. Felix's arms give out, and he falls forward, his face down into the sheets. Bites the fabric to keep himself from crying out all sorts of things. He still has his pride, even if it is being pounded out of him from behind.

If his friends knew - if his father heard of this! Somehow the thought of disappointing him only makes Felix enjoy this more.

Behind him, on top of him, inside of him. Jeritza is everywhere. His cock fills him over and over again, and just when Felix thinks it can’t get any better, Jeritza bends over him and sinks his teeth into Felix’s neck.

He bites down, hard, and Felix screams into the sheets. Jeritza moans into his neck at the sound, and bites even deeper, breaking the skin. Pulls off to lap the mark, and then rams his cock back into Felix with all of his might at the same time as he sinks his teeth into a previously unmarked expanse of skin.

Felix moans loudly, caught between pleasure and pain. Devoured, defiled, and loving it. It’s a wonder nobody has come in yet. They’re never doing this in his room, or the Boar would have torn down the door already.

 _Fuck._ Why is that thought making him gasp? Why is he thinking about a second time? Felix gives up on coherent thought when Jeritza starts pounding into him with a vengeance, driving in long and deep.

“Yes, sing me for me,” he pants into his ear, strained. He’s close, and Felix is not far off, to his own surprise. “Tell me how much you want my seed inside of you.”

“You’re delusional,” Felix grits out, but his mouth is hanging wide open, producing the lewdest sounds that would put a blush even to Sylvain’s face. “If you think that I will… beg for you…”

Jeritza presses a kiss against Felix’s ear, nicking it with his teeth. “You will,” he purrs into his ear, his thrusts deeper and deeper. “Your body is already gripping me so tightly, begging me to take you…”

Felix shakes his head petulantly, and it only seems to excite Jeritza more. To his delight, the next thrust is even more savage, and Felix howls in pleasure, breaking down at the seams.

“Yes,” Jeritza groans. “So greedy, so needy… So… ugh… helpless for my cock.” 

He pulls himself back to his knees and grips Felix’s hips with bruising strength. Felix tries to hoist himself back up to his arms but instantly is slammed back into the mattress when Jeritza forces his hips up, spearing him on his cock. He moves him back and forth on his dick, his fingers digging into his skin and grunting profanities under his breath. 

Felix takes it, just like Jeritza said he would. He feels himself get moved like a doll on that big cock and loving every second of it. His body aches all over and adrenaline surges through his veins, but it’s like a good duel: even if he ends up on his knees, it’s still exhilarating as long as his opponent is worthy. 

And _oh,_ Felix thinks deliriously while the biggest cock he has ever seen hits that spot that makes him see stars over and over again without mercy, _his opponent is very worthy._

“Take it like a bitch,” Jeritza grits out between his teeth, and Felix feels his body go taut behind him, his thrusts becoming more and more staccato. “Take it! Come for me!”

“Yes!” Felix cries out, and then, with one deep, brutal thrust, comes all over the sheets as commanded. Distantly, as the world slowly fizzles out, he feels Jeritza bury himself deep inside of him, hot and pulsing. Hot liquid fills him, but Felix is too far gone to care.

When he comes to Jeritza has crashed down from his own high, right on top of him. He’s heavy and entirely too large, but it’s… not bad. He shouldn't feel safe in the embrace of a man who didn't even take his mask off during sex, but this entire night has been strange. 

“You’re an excellent student,” Jeritza purrs into his ear, sounding as exhausted as Felix feels. “I can’t wait to teach you the more advanced class.”

Felix feels his body heat up even though he can barely remember his own name, and nods dumbly. This is not a class he will be skipping any time soon. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PWP stands for Porn WITH plot, right? Anyway, enjoy the porn first, Felix is going to get railed a lot. This is the Blue Lion route, so Dimilix is endgame but not before Jeritza gets his fill ha ha ha.
> 
> First time writing porn in a long time, I hope people enjoyed it. The next part is half comedic, half horny. After that, it becomes a bit darker, but first Felix gets to have some fun and figure out that he is attracted to big, strong, blonde-haired men who are arguably fucked up in the head. 
> 
> Anyway, please tell me if you enjoyed this. I wrote this in a haze, so please, if you want to beta this and the upcoming filth, hit me up.


	2. in which Felix discovers that sword swallowing is hard, pun intended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, Felix is still Felix, and Jeritza - unfortunately - is still very distracting.

People always talked about losing your virginity like it is a life-changing event. But if losing his virginity made Felix a different person than he had been yesterday, he had yet to notice it. He was still him, and honestly, that was alright with him. 

The morning after he feels a little giddy and a little bit more relaxed than usual. Jeritza had offered him to stay the night, but Felix didn’t want to risk Ingrid barging into his room early in the morning, finding his bed unused. Didn’t want to deal with her questions afterward. It had been hard to drag himself out of that warm embrace before morning light, but once he hit his own pillow, he didn’t have any trouble getting some more shut-eye. 

Felix looks at himself in the mirror before putting on his uniform. He didn’t have the energy to do so before sunrise, but now that he has finally recovered from - _whatever yesterday evening was_ , Felix thinks, a memory of a mouth on his cock flashing through his mind - he’s suddenly glad that the Garreg Mach uniform is as conservative as it is. 

Peeking up from under his smallclothes, one darkening bruise layered on top of another stands stark against his pale skin. Felix traces it with his finger, remembering Jeritza’s unrelenting grip on his hips. He swallows deeply and pushes slightly. It doesn’t _really_ hurt, and will probably fade within a day or two. He’s had far worse, and he always bruised easily, much to Dimitri’s horror as a child whenever that brute accidentally miscalculated his strength. But for once he doesn’t mind. The marks are reminders, visual yet private, that yesterday… yesterday he lost his mind and his virginity along with it. 

Felix closes his eyes and regulates his breathing. Wills the beginning of an erection away, spurred on my memories. Yesterday’s _activities_ were supposed to distract him less, not more! 

He turns away from his mirror before opening his eyes. He learned how to fix his hair without it a long time ago, too unnerved by the image of his brother staring back at him. Only when he is fully dressed again does he check if his collar hides the purple-reddish bite marks that he knows litter his neck. It does.

He feels a little bit unsteady on his feet but makes sure that the slight discomfort from yesterday isn’t visible in his gait. Sitting down is a bit less comfortable than it usually is, but he can deal with that. 

He doesn’t bother paying attention during class. It’s lances for beginners. Glenn taught him the basics a long time ago, so this is nothing if not utterly useless. Instead, he subtly looks at his classmates from the corners of his eyes.

Okay, so maybe having sex has changed him a little. Opened his eyes to things he never noticed before, if nothing else. He looks at Dedue, who is even taller than Jeritza, and for an awkward moment wonders what he looks like without clothing. Would he be gentle? Or would he be rough, punishing him for all the things Felix says about his master on a daily basis? He quickly banishes the thought and moves his gaze to Dimitri, the ultimate mood killer.

Well, it usually is. Just looking at Dimitri, or rather the beast that replaced his best friend fills him with disgust. Usually. Not today, apparently. His haircut looks so dumb, _ugh_ , but he has a nice jawline, and before he can help it his mind strays, wondering how Dimitri has developed underneath his clothes in the two years Felix refused any and every interaction between them.

Felix buries his face in his arms and lets out a string of curses. _Why_ is he thinking about this? Dimitri is going to graduate, and then inherit the throne, after which he is going to marry a nice noble lady and proceed to lie to her face for the rest of his life, like he does to everyone else.

It makes Felix feel sick in his stomach, and any lingering arousal is gone instantly. His father has - perhaps out of kindness, perhaps out of consideration for Dimitri's unbetrothed status - held off from any bids for his hand since Glenn died. But Felix is the only remaining son of the second most powerful man in Faerghus and the first Fraldarius since Kyphon to bear a major Crest, so he knows that won’t last much longer after graduation. 

Felix thinks back to yesterday, on being put to his knees and speared on a nice cock. Sneaks a peek at Annette - who is _great_ by any account - and imagines her naked. Immediately regrets it afterward, feeling guilty for reasons he can’t quite understand. They’ve got a good thing going, but he can’t imagine sneaking into her room and undressing for her. Not even Mercedes, who even Felix can admit is pretty with her long blonde hair and blue eyes, doesn’t make him feel anything close to what imagining Dedue naked does to him, and he doesn’t even _like_ Dedue!

Dimitri will not be the only one putting up a mask for the rest of his life to the woman he will eventually, inevitably wed, even if it is for entirely different reasons. Any euphoria left within him from yesterday quickly fades away after that realization. It’s not pity he’s feeling. The Boar, someone who tears people apart like they’re dolls, doesn’t deserve that. So it must be something else. 

“You okay, Fe?” Sylvain whispers, and Felix nearly jumps up from his seat in surprise. “I guess that’s a no.”

“Shut _up_ , Sylvain,” Felix hisses back, and hopes one of his oldest friends can’t read him as easy as he could before Felix put as much distance as he could between them.

“You came back late yesterday,” Sylvain continues as if Felix said nothing at all. “Fell asleep on the training grounds?”

Felix almost tells him that’s ridiculous, but swallows the words. “Something like that,” he whispers instead, decidedly not looking at Sylvain, or he will know he is lying. 

Sylvain stares at him for a bit, and Felix prays that his cheeks are not as red as he thinks they are. “Well, you look very tense. Let’s hit the saunas after class, you can skip one hour of training.”

“No,” Felix answers firmly, and without thinking puts his hand on Jeritza’s marks on his neck. He’s not going to the sauna until they’re faded, because if he’s ever going to tell anyone what happened last night, it’s not going to be Sylvain. 

“Come on…”

“ _No_ , I’m studying Reason with Dorothea,” Felix reminds both of them. He almost forgot about it. Right, that’s going to be a disaster. She confuses him even on days when he hasn’t lost all his marbles, and today is not that day. 

Sylvain whistles salaciously. “Oh, why didn’t you say you had a date? Good luck, mate. Let me know if you need some protection if you know what I mean.”

“It’s not a-- why would I need armor?” Felix asks incredulously. Dorothea is good with a sword, yes, but he's _better_. 

Sylvain laughs, quite obviously at his expense. Felix kicks him in the shin, but it only makes him laugh louder, until everyone is staring at them and Byleth gives them both detention for disturbing class, even though it was _obviously_ Sylvain’s fault.

 _Whatever_. Dorothea joins him in detention because she was painting her nails during Faith class and Manuela is adamant about not showing favoritism. They finish their homework together, or rather they both copy it from Hubert, who is there because he got caught doing something Felix doesn’t even want to know. Sylvain then copies it from him, and in the end, neither of them learn anything from this, as usual.

The sun is setting slowly by the time he makes his way to the training grounds, ready to go through his daily sword practice. Sylvain is hot on his heels. The days are getting longer, and Felix is dreading summer already. He grew up in northern Fraldarius, where snow is never gone for long and frosty nights last up until late spring. 

Maybe all of this madness, all of this heat he is feels running through his veins, is just a result of the hot weather. 

_Or maybe_ , a traitorous voice says in the back of his mind, _you just have two eyes and can see that Jeritza is just hot._

Speaking of the devil, and he shall appear. Jeritza walks in during their warming up. Felix panics. They’re in public, and Sylvain is right there. Was yesterday a one-night stand? Are they courting? Felix doesn’t know how to court anyone, least of all a _man_ whose last name he can barely remember. He holds his breath when Jeritza walks past, but the man who utterly wrecked him yesterday doesn’t even spare him a second glance today.

 _Fine!_ Felix thinks, taking his training sword from the rack. _It isn’t like he wanted to continue this… this...distraction anyway!_

He turns his back on Jeritza and forces Sylvain to spar with him instead. 

“Hey, take it easy!” Sylvain cries out the fourth time Felix hits him on the head. “I still need that!”

“Could have fooled me,” Felix mutters, but tries to reign his anger a bit more anyway. It’s not Sylvain’s fault he’s being affected by the heat. He’s not angry, or insulted, or _anything_. Really!

Suddenly a far too familiar presence is behind him, his back pressed into a chest, and Jeritza’s low, emotionless voice in his ear. “Have you already forgotten yesterday’s lesson? Anger only slows you down in battle. There should be nothing but you, your blade, and your desire to kill whoever dares crossing your path.”

Sylvain pales. “Dude, we’re practicing, don’t encourage him to kill me, _please_.”

Felix barely hears what Sylvain says. He feels hot, furious and so utterly alive in a way he hasn't in roughly four years. He tears himself away from Jertiza and turns around angrily. “Maybe you’re not as good of a teacher as you _think_ you are.”

Jeritza meets his eyes, and stares at him, but doesn’t say anything to that.

It’s making Felix feel uncomfortable, powerless. He’s not used to being ignored, he’s the one doing the ignoring usually. The role reversal isn’t fun at all. “Well? Weren’t you going to teach me the advanced class?”

Jeritza takes a step backward. “It seems you still need to work on the basics.”

“No, I don’t!” Felix growls back. They’re talking about swords, right? _Right_.

“Then show me what you have learned, and I might reconsider your training schedule,” Jertiza says without blinking, but his voice is a little more like it was last night. There is a shadow of a smile on his face, and a promise in his eyes that Felix can’t quite make sense of.

 _How_ is he so composed? It’s driving Felix up the wall, making him want to wrestle him into the dust, climb on top of him and--

Okay, calm down. He doesn’t mind if his thoughts go south during class, but this is sword practice. This is what he was made to do, and nothing in the world is going to mess with this. 

“Fine!” It’s confusing, but Felix doesn’t back off from a challenge, as a rule, so instead he turns back towards Sylvain with new determination and raises his training sword high. “Sylvain, prepare yourself!”

Felix doesn’t know what he looks like to make Sylvain gulp like he does. “Uhmm? No thanks, Felix. I have no interest in losing an eye. I’m gonna go and-- yeah I’m leaving. See you at breakfast tomorrow...?”

Sylvain doesn't wait for his answer. He's gone within seconds, leaving his training equipment behind for Felix to clean.

“Coward!” Felix calls after him but knows better than to expect Sylvain to return. He's surprisingly fast when he puts the effort in for once.

Feeling as enraged as he was before, Felix turns around. Like most nights, it’s just the two of them again on the training ground. Felix feels breathless and they haven’t even started yet. He bows, as is tradition, and readies his sword, waiting for Jeritza to make the first move.

He doesn’t have to wait long. What follows is one of the most intense duels he has ever had. Sweat gushes down his back, his arms scream from pushing himself faster, faster still. Felix gives it his all. Just because Jeritza had him on his knees yesterday, doesn’t mean he’ll bow down today. He will beat him in combat one day, it’s only a matter of time. 

More so than any duel they’ve had before, Felix is winning. He takes several hits, but he gives each back, faster, stronger. 

His adrenaline is soaring, and Felix is grinning like a madman, right until Jeritza feints a blow Felix should have seen coming, and floors him with a sweep of his leg.

Felix hits the ground gracelessly and lands right on his ass. Pain shoots up his spine, a reminder of exactly what went up there yesterday, and he cries out before he can stop himself.

Jeritza is upon him immediately, his hands glowing white with Faith magic. Felix feels the bruises from last night fade as Jeritza’s hands move lower, lower, lower, until-

“Did last night impede your ability to fight?” Jeritza says, his hand hovering inches over Felix’s crotch. The relief is as instant as it is humiliating. "Are you hurt?”

“Don’t be _ridiculous_ ,” Felix sneers back, but he can't hide the slight tenting in his pants. It's the fight! It would make anyone excited!

The healing spell ends, and Jertiza reaches forward, groping his cock through his breaches roughly, and his voice drops low. “... would you like it to hurt?”

Felix’s eyes go wide, and his mouth falls open. “Don’t… say things like that in public!”

Jeritza does not take his hand off his cock, and Felix feels himself harden even further to his utter mortification. “Why? Why would you care what people say about you, suddenly?” 

“We’re in _public_ ,” Felix repeats and slaps Jeritza’s hand away. “Even if nobody is here, it’s _indecent_.”

He’s not Sylvain, even if he can sympathize with him a bit more after everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours. Still, that doesn’t mean he’s about to let himself get fucked on the training ground. 

Jeritza, to his credit, doesn’t try to grope him again. Instead, he leans forward and bites the tip of Felix’s ear before whispering: “You look so needy, so desperate, so _indecent_. Don’t you want me to take you to bed, and fuck you until every step you take tomorrow reminds you of me?”

Felix moans obscenely. He doesn’t know how to talk anymore, probably doesn’t even know his own name. He’s hard, achingly so.

“Look at you,” Jeritza continues, and presses a deceptively soft kiss to Felix’s temple before whispering seductively again. “So eager, and you don’t even realize it. You make me want to do things to you, you can’t even imagine.”

“Y-yes,” Felix moans, forgetting himself. 

“Yes, what?”

“Please,” Felix moans. He doesn’t know what else to say. He doesn’t even know what he is asking for, only that whatever it is, he wants more of it.

Jeritza pulls back, only to dive in again. Captures his lips with a ferocity that is nothing like his detached personality. Pries his lips apart with a nip of his teeth and then laps at Felix’s tongue like he’s starving.

Felix sure feels like he is starving, and he clings to Jeritza, uncaring if he leaves bruises. Nothing matters but that tongue in his mouth, hot breath mingling with his own, and that strong body warm against his own. Goddess, he really doesn’t want to get fucked in the place where he trains, but at this rate he might not be able to say no much longer if Jeritza tries again.

When they pull apart, Felix is breathless, a trail of drool dripping down his lips. Jeritza gently wipes it away, a stark contrast with the teeth he just sunk into his skin. Felix leans into the touch, desperate for more. 

“You are correct, however. We shouldn’t be doing this here,” Jertiza says suddenly, detangling them. He keeps a hand on Felix’s shoulder, steadying him until he is standing on his own two feet. Felix is embarrassed about how much he needs it because his knees feel like they might give out any moment now. 

Still, he would rather die than show weakness, even if Jeritza has seen far worse from him not too long ago. He still has his pride, and it won’t allow him to be aided in any way. 

To his dismay, Jeritza doesn’t immediately lead him to his quarters. They take the long road past the public washing room, where they clean themselves up a little although Felix doesn’t dare take off his shirt.

Felix has regained some of his senses by the time they reach the Knight’s Quarters. Jeritza makes no effort to hide Felix’s presence, but Felix is happy all the same they don’t run into anyone. Even if Jeritza doesn’t care what people say about him, Felix doesn’t want word of whatever is going on between them get back to his father, especially not through the eyes of some prude, celibate knight. 

~~**XXX** ~~

Jeritza has the sense to lock the door behind them. Felix sits down on the bed awkwardly. Last time, he went with whatever Jeritza told him to do, mostly because he simply didn’t know better. This time he is determined to stay in control. He looks up to see Jeritza slowly taking off his overcoat, folding it neatly.

“Are you going to take off your mask this time?” He asks, sounding whinier than he intended.

Jeritza looks surprised. “Are you… bothered by it?”

“It’s ridiculous,” Felix says. “Whatever scars you’re hiding, I’ve seen worse. I’m not afraid.”

Jeritza’s laugh catches him off guard. “There are many reasons I wear a mask,” he says, but moves to undo the clasp anyway. “But it’s not to hide scars.”

“Then why?’

Jeritza slowly takes the mask, almost as if he is insecure. “I’ve done things in the past… It would be better if it stays in the past.”

Felix would have asked what he meant by that if he wasn’t so utterly floored by his first look at Jeritza’s unmasked face. No scars, indeed. He’s handsome, like a painting, a sculpture. His soft features remind Felix of someone, but he can’t quite get his thoughts in order to connect the dots. 

“I prefer to cover my face, but in here, if it pleases you, I don’t mind taking this off,” Jeritza says, carefully putting his mask on the bedside table. “In the future, if there is anything else you desire of me, you only need to ask.”

 _The future, huh?_ Felix swallows deeply, looking up at that mountain of a man he is desperate to climb. “Are we…?” 

Jeritza waits patiently for him to continue, but Felix doesn’t know how to say it. Using his words, expressing what he really feels, these are things he finds hard. 

Jeritza takes pity on him after a while. “I promised to teach you the advanced class, did I not?” He says, a hint of a smug smile back in his voice.

Felix groans, but he’s not complaining. “Get on with it then.”

“Very well,” Jeritza says and starts working on the laces of his own breaches. “Take off your clothes.”

Felix is more than eager to comply, and strips with little fanfare, and throws his clothes on the ground. He has more than one uniform in his room, and his underwear is ruined by precum anyway. 

When he is finished, the man in front of him takes him in slowly. Jeritza’s eyes dilate, his pupils blown wide until the blue of his eyes is just a small ring, swallowed up by darkness. He traces his own marks of Felix’s throat, only phantoms of what they were this morning after Jeritza healed them earlier.

“Aren’t you coming to bed?” Felix asks, unsure how to continue. His neck is starting to ache from looking up at Jeritza standing while he is sitting on the edge of the bed. 

Jeritza shakes his head, and instead lifts his fingers from the phantom hickeys, tracing a long line up Felix’s neck, until he finally stops on Felix’s lips. Felix’s parts his lips, and Jeritza takes the invitation itis. First he traces his top lip, then the bottom one. He leaves a tingling trail of fire behind with every stroke.

Daringly, Felix bites his fingers. Not hard, but it has the intended effect. Jeritza’s eyes widen, and he licks his lips. As soon as Felix releases the digits, he doesn’t pull back, no, he pushes them in deeper. Two fingers, heavy and hot on his tongue, pushing deeper and deeper, back and forth.

It shouldn’t be arousing him, like it shouldn’t have turned him on to have those same fingers up his ass yesterday. But Felix is drooling around them all the same, relishing in the taste, sucking up as much as he can.

“Look at you,” Jeritza says huskily, echoing what he said earlier on the training ground. “Sucking my fingers like a starving man. You’re a natural, aren’t you? I wonder how deep you can take me…”

It’s as much of a warning he gets. Jeritza leans forward and grasps the back of his neck, and holds him steady. His grip is firm, but his thumb draws little circles into his skin, comforting him. It’s the contrast that has Felix on edge. Jeritza pushes his fingers deeper, past his tongue, down his throat.

Felix nearly gags, but as soon as he is about to Jeritza pulls his fingers back from his throat. 

“Pinch me if I go too far,” Jeritza tells him and waits until Felix nods in agreement. Then he pumps his fingers back into his mouth, back and forth, lingering a little deeper with each thrust. “Like most things in life, oral sex is a skill that can be mastered by training the body.”

His grip on his neck is like steel, and Felix couldn’t move his neck even he wanted too. He rests his hand on Jeritza’s knee, ready to pinch if Jeritza goes too fast. He doesn’t, and with every slow, deliberate thrust, Felix feels those damned long fingers slip deeper and deeper into his mouth, down his throat. It's uncomfortable, but that some feeling is feeding the fire in his gut.

When Jeritza finally gives him a moment to breathe, Felix has to swallow four times before all the spit in his mouth is gone. Jeritza releases the grip on his neck in favor of gently stroking his hair, undoing his bun so he can play with his hair more freely. He looks proud of him, and Felix likes living up to people’s expectations after a lifetime of coming second everywhere. 

“Are you ready for more?”

Felix eyes the slight bulge visible through the fabric of Jeritza’s pants, conveniently on his eye height. 

He might be inexperienced, but he understands what Jeritza is prepared him for. He’s not complaining, and instead of answering, pushes Jeritza's pants down just far enough to pull out his cock.

He’s half-hard, but already an impressive sight. Felix strokes him, slow first, then faster, loving the way his penis grows harder with every stroke. He licks his lips, feeling a little anxious but equally curious.

Jeritza groans and takes his head in both his hands, tangling his fingers into Felix's unbound hair. “Open your mouth for me, and show me what you have learned so far,” Jeritza pants, and Felix is nothing if not an eager student. Well, in the bedroom at least.

Felix experimentally laps at the head. It’s warm, swollen in a way that makes him want to bite down to really taste. He doesn’t, but thinks about it, long enough for Jeritza to get impatient and shove his hips forward.

Felix is unprepared for the feeling of a cock being forced into his mouth, and his teeth get stuck on the foreskin in a way that can’t be pleasant. His lips are stretched in a way that is both uncomfortable and unbelievably hot. He knew Jeritza was big, but it almost feels as if he is still growing, hot and heavy on his tongue. _Fuck_ , it's a great feeling. He takes a deep breath through his nose and gets to work. 

Jeritza blew his mind yesterday when he sucked him off. Felix is ready to upstage him. He hollows his cheek and drives himself forward on his cock, sucking. Pulls himself almost all the way off him, and does it again, even further this time.

“Yes, that’s good, keep going,” Jeritza encourages him, and thrusts forward, almost going too far. “Keep that filthy little mouth open for me while I’m fucking it.”

Felix tries to deny that, but instead his complaints are nothing but a hum around his cock. Jeritza’s eyes open wider, and Felix does it again, vibrating a little around his shaft. He feels nothing short of victorious when Jeritza gasps, and bucks into his waiting mouth uncontrollably. He’s so composed normally, that it makes Felix fire up every time he tears down some of that composure. He wants nothing more than to drive him over the edge, see what's underneath the mask of indifference he wears underneath his iron one. 

“You’re thirsty, aren’t you?’ Jeritza growls, his voice almost dangerous. He pushes his cock in deeper, no longer allowing Felix to determine the pace. Fucking into his mouth, then into his throat until every thrust cuts off his air supply, and Felix gags hard around the cock in his throat. Jeritza slows down a little but doesn’t stop. He draws back a little, and watches Felix intently, waiting for him to call this off. 

Felix considers pinching him for a moment but decides against it. Now that he can breathe again, he's excited to see how far he can take this. Besides, Jeritza swallowed him with ease yesterday. He can do this, and nods as much as the iron grip on his hair will allow. 

Jeritza strokes his hair twice. “Prepare yourself,” he says gently, and then pushed Felix’s face all the way down his cock in one brutal movement. 

Felix can’t help himself. He gags, his entire throat spasming, and tears spill down his cheeks. Jeritza doesn’t move an inch, firmly trapping Felix’s face against his pubic bone, moaning loudly. 

Then he pulls Felix off him by his hair, hard, and now it’s Felix who is moaning, panting, gasping for air. 

“You liked that,” Jeritza states, doesn’t ask. Doesn’t have to, because Felix is already diving back in, his mouth watering.

Jeritza dictates the pace, and he is as brutal a taskmaster in sex as he is on the training ground. He fucks Felix’s face, each thrust deep, forcing Felix to take it. It’s…. it’s… it’s….

 _Oh fuck,_ Felix thinks, nearly coming untouched when Jeritza pushes himself all the way down again, wraps a hand around his throat to feel the outline of his cock. 

_This is almost better than getting sucked off himself._

“So talented,” Jeritza gasps, his thrusts becoming less controlled with every passing second. “I want to feed you, never let you go hungry again. Look at me, little Felix. Do you want my seed? Want me to fill you here too, in your hungry little mouth?”

Felix moans around his cock. It’s as much of an agreement he can make, with his body ablaze and his throat stuffed to the brim.

Jeritza groans loudly. “ _Drink_ , then. Swallow it all. Take it!” He thrusts in once, twice, and then his cock starts pulsing. His breathing becomes even more labored. He drives his hips forward, spears Felix on his cock and empties himself with a loud grunt down his throat. The feeling of warm liquid is a surprise, even if he expected it, and Jeritza keeps shallowly thrusting for what seems like forever, spurting more and more come into him. 

Felix is slowly becoming lightheaded from the lack of air, and it’s getting past the point of it being arousing. He pinches Jeritza’s leg none too gently, and Jeritza lets go of him immediately. Felix falls back on the bed, gasping for air, tears rolling down his cheeks. Jeritza’s cock spurts one last time, and the last two drops of come land on Felix’s cheek. 

Jeritza bends over him, looking at least half as wrecked as Felix probably looks. He certainly feels the part, especially when Jeritza kisses him deeply, tasting himself in Felix’s mouth. His seed tastes salty, a little bitter even, Felix realizes. He was too busy getting his face fucked within an inch of his life before to really let it register.

He’s not even close to catching his breath when Jeritza takes Felix’s cock into his hand. It’s painfully hard, and it doesn’t take more than a few strokes until Felix is coming all over Jeritza’s hand. He cries out loudly, and feels all the heat from before explode into one of the most intense orgasms he has ever had in his life. Jeritza holds him all the way through it. 

“You’re beautiful, _so beautiful_ like this,’ he coos, kissing every part of him within reach. Felix is too tired, too boneless, to protest. “I will confess that I do not wish to share this sight with anyone else.” 

Felix groans, curling into the body on top of him. The weight is making it hard to breathe, but who needs air after an orgasm like that? 

Jeritza looks him deep into the eye, his voice reverent. “With your permission, I would like to keep you.”

“Keep me? What am I? A dog?” Felix snaps back. His voice sounds like… well, like someone just put a large object down his throat, repeatedly. Enthusiastically.

“That was what you were asking before, were you not?”

It takes a moment before Felix realizes what Jeritza is referring to. Right. He was unsure what this thing they were doing was. He’s a little beyond caring right now, but he’s sobering up quickly. 

“I’m not some maiden you can court.”

Jeritza laughs and gently presses a kiss against Felix’s sore throat. “No, you are no maiden. We made sure of that, didn’t we?” He says, smug again. One day Felix is going to fuck _him_ senseless, and then they will see who is the smug one. “I care little of what other people think of me, as long as I can get the job done. I have no interest in courting. But I would like to keep seeing you like this. Would that please you?”

“Y-yes,” Felix agrees. It hurts a little to swallow or speak, but he feels accomplished. He swallowed that cock all the way down, on his first try. “I… wouldn’t mind that. As long as it doesn’t interfere with my training.”

Jeritza presses a kiss into his hair, rolls off him and pulls Felix into the circle of his arms until they’re all tangled up, breathing hard. “Naturally. To pursue the way of the sword and to pursue pleasure… those things are not mutually exclusive,” he whispers, his eyes still dark with lust. His grip on Felix is strong, secure, possessive. He likes it. “I would be more than happy to teach you in both.”

Felix closes his eyes and relaxes in his arms. A worthy opponent on the field and a challenging lover in his bed. Sounds like heaven to him.

**XXX**

To his horror, Dimitri is sitting in front of his door when Felix returns from his blissed-out nap in Jeritza’s room. It’s late at night to the point that saying ‘it’s early’ is more accurate. The Boar is absentmindedly sharpening a lance when Felix tries and fails to sneak back in unnoticed. He looks up, the shadows under his eyes even more pronounced than usual. “That’s the second night in a row that you have returned late, Felix.”

“Who died and made you my keeper?”

Felix winces the second the words leave his - admittedly sore - throat. The answer to his question is _Glenn_. Glenn died, and apparently, Dimitri decided that meant that it is now his job to be his protective older brother instead. Felix almost retches and would have, if Dimitri actually said it. 

They stare at each other for a moment, not saying anything. His brother’s name is never spoken, but it hangs between them as it has for four long years. Dimitri looks terrible, Felix realizes. After everything today, he’s feeling a bit too raw to pretend he doesn’t care at all about that. 

“Go to bed,” he mutters charitably. “Get some sleep. You look terrible.”

“So do you, Felix,” Dimitri says darkly, before catching himself. “Ah, I didn’t mean to say--”

But Felix doesn’t wait around to listen to him. He dashes around Dimitri and locks himself into his room. He’s under no illusion that Dimitri can’t barge his door open without breaking a sweat, but he knows he won’t. The Boar is a lot, but he’s never been discourteous. 

Instead he takes out his mirror and looks at himself. He looks nothing like Glenn right now. His hair is getting longer than he had realized, but not long enough to cover his kiss-bitten lips, or quickly darkening teeth marks that are not quite covered by the collar of his uniform. His uniform itself is a mess that tells a story on its own. 

But it’s his eyes that give him away, still dark with lust and slightly unfocussed. Nothing like his usual self. He looks mauled, Felix thinks. 

Without realizing it, his hand goes to his throat. It’s sore and bruised, even more so when Felix wraps his own fingers around it. Feels his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows. Remembers how it felt to have Jertiza’s hand there instead, his cock pushing deeper and deeper, trusting Felix to take what he had to give. 

Felix smiles, and his reflection smiles back, looking delirious. He barely recognizes himself. Outside, Dimitri doesn’t show any sign of leaving, but in here, in the privacy of his room, Felix admits to himself that he never liked what he saw in the mirror more. 

They’re both going mad, or maybe Felix is only realizing now that he never came home quite sane after the Western Rebellion either. He doesn’t know what to do with that realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thought process while writing this chapter can be best described as: hmmm how did I get rid of my gag reflex again? It’s been a long time. Anyway, this is how I did it, although this is a romanticization, in reality, it takes a few weeks of conditioning to truly get rid of it. Lots of fun, really!
> 
> Anyway, now that TMI is out of the way, I hoped you enjoyed this! I had way too much fun writing this, for sure, and I was definitely fueled by the many joyful and horny comments I got on the previous chapter. Thanks guys, you rock! Now that twinky sword boy and crazy sword man are a couple (sort of) next chapter will jump to the next part of the prompt, where Felix starts suspecting things. His friends are already suspicious, because Felix is not subtle at all, even if he doesn’t realize it himself. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think of this. I will take kink requests into consideration. If anyone realized who I am yet… uhh… I can explain?


	3. in which Felix discovers that Jeritza doesn't just wants to own swords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days go by, and Felix learns many things at Garreg Mach that are not necessarily on the curriculum.

Time moves fast at the academy compared to life at Castle Fraldarius. Garland Moon comes and goes, and as soon as the heavy winds carry the rainy season away, the heat quickly becomes unbearable. Lord Lonato’s treachery is just one event in a long line of continued unrest in Faerghus, that isn’t dying down anytime soon. His father’s letters arrive every week like clockwork, updating him on the current situation in the Duchy, as well as the rest of the Kingdom. It’s bad, to put it lightly.

Jeritza provides a good distraction, at least. After the initial newness of their relationship wears off, Felix finds comfort in his new routine. He wakes up, does his morning exercises, eats breakfast, goes to class, and then does whatever he needs to do for the day. After dinner, he arrives at the training ground, where Jeritza teaches the advanced sword fighting class.

It’s something else, to fight someone whose body you know so intimately. He knows the way Dimitri, Sylvain and Ingrid move because they were all taught by the same teachers. But learning the way Jeritza moves is something else, and Felix excels. 

The most exciting part of his routine is more often than not spend on his knees. Some nights Jeritza fucks him from behind, his ass high in the air and his face pressed into the mattress. Other times Jeritza slams his cock deep into Felix's mouth until it is all he can think about. 

He hasn't asked, but he deduced by his reactions that Jeritza likes it when he can tower over him, completely engulf him with his body. And Felix finds he likes to be taken, especially after a little bit of a fight. Jeritza scoffs at his bratty behavior sometimes, but the glint in his eyes when Felix refuses to open his mouth for him tells him enough. It's a game he's slowly learning to play. While they have sex, Jeritza tries to control him. Praises him excessively when he finally gives in, until Felix does it a little bit faster every time. It becomes harder and harder to deny his wishes, but fighting himself, his instincts, is part of the thrill.

But after the game is done, Jeritza is gentle and even kind. He kisses him, heals and cleans him. They talk about swords, powerful opponents they've faced. Training regimes, and sometimes, when Felix has been fucked particularly raw, they talk a little bit about their lives. About Glenn, one night. He had already been crying from when Jeritza forced him to choke on his cock before he breeched that forbidden topic, so it was easy to blame the rest of the tears on his sore throat. In turn, Jeritza confided in him that he has an older sister too, but doesn't know what happened to her. 

_We're so similar,_ Felix thinks sometimes when they lay entangled in dirty sheets, still slick with come. And yet...

The final part of his routine is after a well-deserved nap. Each morning, Felix sneaks back into his room. The few nights he's too exhausted to wake up before morning light he wakes up in an empty bed. Jeritza doesn't leave him notes, doesn't bother with poetry, and Felix doesn't ask where he went.

It's all great, but something is off. Felix is a light sleeper. He would have woken up if Jeritza had closed the door, he knows this for certain. And yet, Jeritza is gone without a trace.

Strange. 

**XXX**

They usually fuck in Jeritza’s room, long after everyone is asleep. Felix isn’t comfortable doing it in any public place, even if his partner seems eager to get down and dirty outside. In public they maintain a professional relationship which isn't very different from the one they had before, and so their relationship is usually tightly confined to the world inside Jeritza's room. Usually.

“Be still, my Felix, or do you want the neighbors to hear how much you crave my cock?” Jeritza teases, fucking him harder against his desk. His homework lies forgotten on the floor, and instead the ancient wooden desk creaks every time Jeritza plows him deeper into it.

Felix moans, sinking his teeth into his hand to stifle the sound. He hopes they locked the doors at least. He can’t quite bring up the brain capacity to remember or care. He is known for his single-minded determination in mastering the sword, so nobody asked any questions when Jeritza came up to his dorm room in the middle of the afternoon. His homework was quickly forgotten. 

It’s a testament to how much they’ve been fucking each other, that Felix didn’t put up more than a token of protest when Jeritza bent him over the desk and ordered him to spread his legs. It’s the middle of a summer day - and by all accounts too hot for this - but Jeritza’s merciless pace is exactly what he needs after a day of trying and failing to study for his Authority class.

Jeritza slaps his bare asscheek, and Felix bites down hard enough to draw blood. _Fuck_ , he needs more. 

“You turn the loveliest shade of pink under my touch,” Jeritza groans, sounding more affected by it than Felix, which is a feat considering how much his cock is weeping. “I wish you could see how eager your ass takes me. So greedy, so lovely…” He trails off and spanks his ass once again. 

A wave of pain and pleasure shoots up his spine, and Felix presses back into the cock filling him as much as he can while pinned to the desk. He gave up on trying to understand why this turns him on a few weeks ago, when Jeritza poured hot candle wax on his nipples while he fucked him with the hilt of his sword until Felix came untouched.

 _Fuck,_ just thinking about it makes his cock jump against the hard wood of the desk. _I'm going to have bruises everywhere tomorrow,_ Felix thinks, and the thought brings him even closer to the edge. The crescent moon shapes left by Jeritza’s hands on his hips are becoming a permanent stain on his skin. 

A particular well-aimed thrust has him arching his back, long hair falling around his face like a curtain, cutting off his vision. He’s shaking with desire, pent up from all the things that have been going on. This - spread out and fucked within an inch of his life - is the only exciting thing in a world that seems to be getting worse every day.

Felix nearly cries when Jeritza pulls out of him. “W-what the hell do you think you’re doing!?” He demands, turning his head around to holler at Jeritza. “Get back in me or I _will_ killyou!” 

Jeritza's smile turns deranged, as if he would actually enjoy that. “One day, my dear one. One day you shall be the death of me, or I of you,” he says, sounding excited at the prospect. Not Felix’s desired effect, but _whatever_ , he has more important things to do than unpacking all of that.

Before he can turn around, push Jeritza on his bed and take what he needs himself, he feels a finger circle his rim. 

“Spread yourself for me,” Jeritza orders, his voice strained, fisting his own cock with his other hand lazily. “Use your hands, both of them. Show me how well you can keep quiet without something to occupy your mouth.” 

Felix gulps and does as he is ordered. The skin of his ass is sensitive when he pulls his cheeks apart, and he feels humiliated and horny at the same time. _Goddess_ , if anyone would walk in now and see him, putting his hole on display for his teacher? He would combust on the spot, and not in a good way.

“Good boy,” Jeritza coos, running a lubed finger over his gaping hole. He dips in, and Felix gasps. It’s both a relief and not nearly enough to satisfy him. 

“Don’t just _st_ _and_ there,” Felix pants darkly, hoping to sound at least vaguely threatening. “Fuck me already!” 

“So impatient…” Jeritza drawls out sinfully, but before Felix can get violent positions his cock against his entrance again. “Well then, if you insist.” 

Jeritza moans and buries himself all the way in. The long push as he thrusts back inside is addictive, tantalizing, like lightning through his veins. One thing he likes about Jeritza is the fact that he either does things right or not at all. His strokes are deep and hit him just right, and Felix can barely breathe. The air is fucked out of him, and he has to bite his tongue to keep the sounds inside. It’s a losing game. Felix can’t help himself: he lets out a high-pitched keen. 

_Please_ let Dimitri be out with Dedue or the professor today! 

“Yes, pet,” Jeritza growls, every word punctuated by a hard thrust of his cock. “Look how my cock sinks inside you, how your ass swallows me, how beautifully you stretch. You were made for this, weren’t you? You take me so beautifully, so perfectly. Makes me want to lock you up and take you like this every day.” 

“What - _ah_! - would be the point of - _ah, fuck_! - that? You already fuck me - _Oh, yes_! - e-every night!” 

“Twice a day, then. Three times. Four!” Jeritza promises with every thrust. “I would take you everywhere. In the kitchen, on the battlefield. Surrounded by a field of roses, each envious of your - _ah_! - beauty. Oh, the things you make me want to do to you, if only I was a free man.” 

Felix feels shame creep up his cheeks. He can take the dirty talk - likes it even when Jeritza commands him, even if he will never admit it. But it’s when he says things like this - romantically? - that he feels flustered and uncertain. He knows how to respond to Jeritza’s sexual demands, but this? 

These words have him pant breathlessly, lost for words. It’s too much: the words, the cock spreading him open, Jeritza’s hand on his back, forcing him to take it. 

“Make me come already!” He demands wantonly, so close to the edge but unable to push himself past that point.

Jeritza’s deranged laugh echoes through his dorm room. “Who do you belong to?” He asks, his voice rough and sinful. “Whose cock do you crave? Who brings you pleasure?”

“ _You,_ ” Felix pants out impatiently, desperate for release.

“That’s right,” Jeritza praises him and rewards him with a loud slap against his already sensitive asscheek. “You’re mine to fuck. Mine to fill. I say when you come, and you haven’t earned it yet.”

Felix howls and Jeritza does it again. “Please!” He cries out frantically, pushing himself frantically onto the cock spearing him open. He’s moaning like a whore - keeping himself spread open like one too - but he doesn’t give a fuck anymore about his reputation. He’s _so_ close, he can almost taste it in the air. 

But Jeritza doesn’t relent. “Who do you belong to?” He asks again, his voice heavy with lust.

“Jeritza!” Felix cries out, shame burning on his cheeks. 

Said man snaps his hips forward with a satisfying growl, and Felix can swear he can feel his cock end up all the way in his head. It’s the only explanation why he can’t think of anything but Jeritza, his big cock, and his seed. He’s so desperate for it. He doesn't know if right now there would be anything he wouldn’t do to be allowed to finally come.

He doesn't have to wonder long. Jeritza can be merciful. He slaps his ass one last time before grabbing his long hair with one hand and pulls hard.

Felix’s back arches up as far he comfortably can with his hands still spreading his asscheeks, and then even further. With every deep thrust, Jeritza tugs harder on his hair, forcing him back further, and Felix sees stars shoot in front of his eyes, his nerves on fire.

“Please…,” he begs weakly, one last time. “ _Please_ Jeritza.”

His teacher knows him well, but Felix has learned many things, too. He knows Jeritza loves to pull his unbound hair, loves it when he is unable to move anywhere but deeper onto his cock, loves it when he finally gives in and begs for it. But most of all, he loves it when Felix is cock-drunkenly balancing on that line between pleasure and pain. Loves to put him there, overwhelm him with two conflicting sensations until Felix loses the ability to speak.

And just like that, Jeritza let’s go of his hair. Felix falls back on the desk with a pained gasp. With his hands still dutifully holding his ass open for Jeritza to take what is his, he has nothing to catch himself with, and his face takes the brunt of the impact. It hurts so _good_ , his cock jumps equally painfully, balls ready to burst. 

Jeritza groans loudly and slams Felix even harder against the desk. 

"Please!" Felix barely recognizes his own voice, so broken, so high, so desperate. "Please let me come!"

Jeritza's cock twitches happily within him. “Come then, my pretty little Felix. Come for me!”

He doesn’t even have to touch him. His words, his fat cock buried deep, pressed against his prostate, the way he has Felix spread himself wide open, the blooming bruise on his face: all of it, it’s too much from too many angles. He comes, clenching helplessly around Jeritza’s cock and crying his name from the top of his lungs. Lightning shoots through his veins, more so than any spell he has ever cast. It feels so good. He comes, and comes and comes. It lasts only moments but it feels as unending and inevitable as the end of the world. Equally earthshattering, too. 

Jeritza fucks him through his powerful orgasm until he spills himself inside him with a mighty grunt. Later, after he has laid Felix down on his bed and healed the dark bruise on his face, he forbids him from cleaning himself out. Felix is too blissfully fucked out to put up any protest, so when they duel each other later that evening during fencing class, he can still feel the dried up come sticking to his legs.

Jeritza smiles at him once, knowingly, and Felix wins his next two fights with ease. Summer is upon them, but Felix doesn’t fear the heat anymore.

**XXX**

The ritual is a disaster. What was supposed to be a nice break from classes, ends up in yet another bloodbath. It’s a good thing they deduced that any attack during the Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth would most likely be at the Holy Tomb, because when they get there the place is swarmed with thieves. 

Felix doesn’t mind as much as he probably should. It’s another opportunity to test his blade, and his lessons with Jeritza are paying off: he’s faster than ever, faster even than Byleth.

He can almost lose himself in the thrill of battle. _Almost_. A mysterious, masked knight turns up but doesn’t fight any of them. At their professor’s command they steer clear from him, but something about the way his glowing red eyes follow Felix’s every move makes him itch to run up to him, sword raised high, and challenge him to a duel. Their eyes meet a few times, and somehow it feels like the Death Knight wants him to come.

He doesn’t think much about it anymore after the battle is over. Byleth defeats the mages with a Heroes Relic he has never seen before, and all he can think about is challenging her and that mysterious new sword.

**XXX**

Their couplings aren’t always hard and rough. Sometimes Jeritza lays him on his back, and presses soft kisses against his pubic bone and nips at his nipples teasingly until Felix is writhing underneath him, completely undone. 

“Open your pretty mouth for me,” Jeritza asks almost sweetly, running his hands all over Felix’s body. “Tell me how I can bring you pleasure.” 

“Ah,” Felix groans, finding it hard to remember how to speak after being teased for what seems like hours. 

“You're so good,” Jeritza murmurs against his lips. “So good for me, little Felix. Always so good. Make me forget what I am. Tell me how I can repay you, my dearest.”

Felix moans, twisting his hands into the mess of Jeritza’s hair and kisses him passionately. He feels like he is on fire, and it gets hotter and hotter the more he laps at Jeritza’s lips. 

“I want to give you _everything,_ ” Jertiza all but pleads breathlessly when Felix pulls his hair a little. “Everything, my dear. Will you tell me what it is you desire?”

“You,” Felix pants out.

Jeritza looks a little lost but nods solemnly anyway. “Then you shall have me. As much as you want, as much as you can take.” 

He dives in for another kiss, slow and deep, their tongues tangling. Felix moans into Jertiza’s mouth obscenely and lets himself get devoured slowly and agonizingly. When his orgasm comes, he chokes on Jeritza’s name, who kisses his overwhelmed tears from the corners of his eyes.

It makes him feel things. Warm and fuzzy, hopeful things in a time when there is rarely any cause for it. It’s not love, Felix knows this. But he doesn’t know what else to call it either.

Later that night he returns the favor and loses himself within Jeritza until he is as breathless and pliant as Felix is right now, buried deep inside that warmth. _It’s not love,_ he reminds himself while sleep takes away his senses one by one, until the only thing left is Jeritza’s warm naked body wrapped around his own. 

It's not love, he knows this for sure. But would Felix recognize love even if it was?

**XXX**

The next month is yet another disaster. Miklan steals the Lance of Ruin from Gautier and makes it Sylvain’s - and therefore his - problem. It’s a new low for Miklan, and that’s saying something.

Felix avoids his childhood friends on most days. They’re too keen on bringing up memories he would rather leave in the past, especially when it’s the four of them together. Especially when four used to be five. But this is different. Felix and Dimitri don’t argue when Ingrid makes them clean out the stables together for the third time this week, each of them conveniently close enough to keep an eye on Sylvain.

Sylvain hasn't done anything stupid yet, but he's thinking about it. Felix knows him too well, and Ingrid's worried glances betray she thinks the same thing. So they keep watch, and stick together, almost as if they are thirteen and unspoiled by tragedy again. 

His old man arrived yesterday, and Felix has done an admirable job of avoiding him, as has Dimitri. Rodrigue will take responsibility for the failings of the Faerghus nobility in keeping their country together, but neither of them is truly exempt from blame. When he was Felix's age, Glenn was already a seasoned knight, riding around the Kingdom and bringing order in the King’s name. And if Dimitri had just abandoned tradition and taken the throne already like Felix keeps telling him, none of this might have happened. The Boar is a brute, but he’s not a terrible leader, Felix will admit that. Everything is better than Rufus.

But Dimitri isn't King, and Felix isn't a knight. They're seventeen, and right now they're not heirs to two of the highest positions on the continent. They're students studying for their exams. It’s not the worst, he will admit, spending time with them. Ingrid still stuffs her face any given opportunity, and although Sylvain is ready to set himself on fire just to feel something, he at least can appreciate Felix’s sense of humor. And the Boar? Well, he’s had worse sparring partners. Even after all this time, they still know each other’s moves like they’re cut from the same cloth. 

Dimitri stopped waiting outside of his room months ago after it became clear that Felix was never going to give him an explanation. They never talked about it, but sometimes he nevertheless stares Felix as if he knows something. Felix tries not to let it bother him. He's learning a thing or two from having to keep a secret relationship - well, a secret. Biting his tongue and keeping his mouth shut, for one. _His father would be proud,_ he thinks dryly, but that doesn't keep him from avoiding him. 

It’s a hot afternoon spent lounging together in the shade just outside the Blue Lions classroom when Jeritza approaches them. They rarely meet in public, and never before has Jeritza approached him this deliberately before. Considering the fact that Felix’s father is still around here _somewhere_ , Felix’s heart skips a beat when he hears the tell-tale footfall of his lover.

“Ah, Professor Jeritza!” Ingrid greets him, sounding as surprised as Felix feels, although for entirely different reasons. “What brings you here?”

Jeritza completely ignores her, and instead stops right in front of Felix, looking down at him, not bending down an inch. Felix swallows deeply. 

“Do you have any dinner plans?” His voice is deep, deeper than usual. They haven’t been seeing as much of each other as usual because of what happened in Gautier, but Felix would recognize the hidden meaning behind those words immediately. Jeritza is hungry, but not for sweets. 

_Fucker_ , Felix thinks almost fondly. “Depends. What are they serving?” 

If they were alone, Jeritza would have already hauled him up to his feet for his insolence. Out here, in front of all his friends, Felix is untouchable. Sometimes keeping this secret is exhausting. But sometimes, like today, it’s exhilarating. Felix can't help the smile on his face.

“Nothing of consequence,” Jeritza answers neutrally, but the slight wrinkling of his nose and tightly clenched fists tell Felix a different story. “Tonight's practice is canceled, I have duties elsewhere. If you wish to train, find me on the training ground before dinnertime.” 

His friends look back and forth between them, and for the first time Jeritza’s eyes flicker away from him to glare at… Dimitri? There is a surprising amount of heat behind it, even if the Boar would not be able to recognize it like Felix does.

“We’ll see,” Felix replies petulantly, not making any move to get up from the ground. 

Jeritza’s eyes narrow a fraction. “Farewell,” he says, and then stalks off again with those long legs of his. His blonde hair shines brightly in the sun, a sight Felix doesn’t get to appreciate as much as he would like.

As soon as Jeritza is out of earshot, Sylvain sighs theatrically. “Man, he’s one weird guy, isn’t he?”

“He’s alright, once you get to know him,” Felix says defensively, folding his arms over his chest. 

Ingrid looks at him oddly, but Felix ignores her stare in favor of taking a bite of his beef jerky. “I didn’t know you two were close, Felix,” she says after a moment.

“We’re not,” Felix lies.

Ingrid sees right through him, infuriatingly enough. “You must be. I’ve never seen him approach anyone like that before.” She reconsiders her statement for a moment. “Well, besides Mercedes, that is.”

“Mercedes?”

“Yeah, odd right? I can’t imagine what such a stern guy would have to do with Mercedes. Maybe they knew each other beforehand? Mercedes was born in the Empire, did you know that?” 

Felix did not know that. 

Sylvain whistles lazily. “You don’t think they’re…?” He trails off and makes an obscene hand motion in Dimitri’s direction, probably to rile him up.

It has the desired effect. Dimitri’s princely facade breaks, and he blushes a mortified red. “Sylvain! Don’t speak about our professors like that! Jeritza is an esteemed member of the faculty staff and therefore would never engage in relationships with students like that! Stop this slander!”

Felix chokes on his beef jerky. Oh, if only they knew what kind of relationships Jeritza pursuits behind closed doors. As soon as he catches his breath again, he rubs the bruises on his neck through his shirt. It’s been almost a week since the last time Jeritza marked him, and they’re almost entirely faded.

He gets up and dusts the grass off his clothes. “Anyway, it’s none of our business.’

“Where are you going?” Dimitri asks innocently, but his tone tells another story. 

Felix doesn’t bother looking at him when he answers and instead starts walking, his mind already racing eighty miles a minute. “I’m getting my training gear. Didn’t you hear? I have to practice.”

“It’s a billion degrees Felix!” Sylvain calls after him, but they both know he’s not turning around, even if it’s not the practice they think he’s gearing up for.

Something is off, and Felix knows a challenge when he sees one. Besides, he is hungry too, but not for dinner. With that thought in mind, Felix starts walking just a little bit faster.

“Felix, you’re forgetting your sword!”

**XXX**

For once in his life, Felix skips the training ground without a second thought and goes straight to Jeritza’s chambers. His speculation is correct: he finds Jeritza sitting on his bed, bend forward with his head cradled between his hands, staring at a point on his bookshelf lost in thought.

Neither of them has any patience for pleasantries, so Felix slams the door shut and walks straight up to him, not unlike Jeritza did just a few minutes ago in front of his childhood friends. 

“What was that all about?” He demands, frowning deeply. 

Jeritza looks up, and a flicker of surprise passes over his eyes, but only for a second. Then he raises himself up to his impressive height and towers over Felix.

“Do not expect me to tell you things you surely know,” he hisses, eyes ablaze, and not in a fun way.

Felix doesn’t budge an inch. He’s not easily intimidated, and Jeritza knows it. Instead of cowering he simply crosses his arms, raises a single eyebrow, and waits.

Jeritza narrows his eyes dangerously, and then within the blink of an eye is upon him. He takes him by the wrist and drags him across the room, and shoves him against the wall. Felix puts up a token of a struggle, but lets himself be caged in by his lover, not impressed at all. Jeritza pins his wrists above his head, looms over him and kisses him hard and desperate.

 _Ah,_ Felix thinks while Jeritza fucks his tongue into his mouth relentlessly. _It’s one of those days._

He doesn’t know why, but sometimes Jeritza touches him like he’s going mad. Felix doesn’t really mind - the sex is mind-shattering and brutally intense those days to the point that more often than not it takes conscious effort not to show a limp in his step afterward. But Jeritza is always distant in the following days. Felix doesn’t know where he goes the nights Felix finds his room empty, but maybe he should find out. This - _thing_ \- that has been going on is more than just a fling. 

Jeritza pushes him against the wall with his considerable weight and forces Felix’s legs apart with his knees. Like this, with Jeritza all he can see, feel, smell, Felix is intimately aware just how much bigger he is. How easily he could break him. His blood pools south. 

Jeritza looks him straight in the eye. “You’re _mine_ ,” he states possessively, as if he is stating a fact Felix has no say in. 

Against his will, Felix jolts. “I belong to _me_ , and nobody else,” Felix spits back petulantly, pretending like this sudden break from apathetic behavior isn’t doing things to him.

Jeritza’s grip on his wrist turns painful, and Felix knows he hit a nerve. _Good_. “He looked like he wanted to devour you,” he rasps into Felix’s ear, his breath hot on Felix’s ear, sending shivers down his spine. “He is always looking at you when you turn around, don’t think I haven’t noticed.” 

It’s not just his blood going south that is to blame for Felix confusion. “What? Who?”

“The prince,” Jeritza hisses, and bites Felix’s earlobe for good measure. “Would you like that, Felix? To kneel in front of your future King, and service him like you suck me?”

Felix’s eyes go wide, and he stomps his foot on Jeritza’s viciously. “No!” He exclaims, trying to wipe the vision from his horny, teenage mind. “He’s a beast. He looks like that at everyone when his mask slips, it has nothing to do with me.” But Dimitri had been surprisingly sane lately, with Dedue and the Professor teaming up to get him to eat and sleep regularly. “And even if he did--” 

Jeritza cuts him off. “I will not share you,” he growls possessively, and if Felix wasn’t hard before, he is now ready to burst. “I thought I made that clear, if you wish for this to end, I will not stop you but--” He keeps going, but Felix silences him with a kiss.

Felix considers for a moment walking away. It’s not like it will be hard out of Jeritza’s grip, he’s done it before. Resistance turns Jeritza on as Felix found out the hard way, but if Felix says stop, he stops. He’s horny and their games usually turn him on, but Jeritza’s uncontrolled breathing is unusual. 

In the end, he decides against leaving. Despite his dominant posturing, Jeritza looks strangely vulnerable right now, and they’re long past pretending that this is purely physical. As much as Felix loathes to admit it, he likes the man in front of him, and not just for his cock. 

“Stop acting insecure,” he orders, trying to be caring. It comes out awkwardly. “I came to you, didn’t I? You better make this worth skipping dinner.”

He meets Jeritza’s eyes, still hidden behind his stupid mask that Felix wants nothing more than to rip off his face. Tries to tell with his eyes what he can't say, doesn't have the words for. For a moment, all they do is look at each other, and breathe in each other's air. 

“If you say so,” Jeritza says suddenly, breaking the moment. He releases his grip on Felix’s wrists, only to put his hands on his shoulders and kiss him roughly. “Will you get on your knees for me then?”

It’s not a question, and Felix has been too conditioned to follow an order when he hears one to ignore it. He sinks to his knees obediently, swallowing the bratty retort he has on his tongue. Tomorrow. Today, Jeritza needs something else. 

“Undress yourself,” Jeritza orders while he finally takes off his mask. Felix no longer has to ask, just like Jeritza no longer has to ask Felix to take down his hair. 

Jeritza wordlessly casts a silencing spell Felix only started recognizing last month in the time it takes Felix to slip out of his clothes. He’s sweaty. He’s from the north, and unlike Jeritza, he wasn’t made for this warm weather. Taking off his clothes is a relief, and not just for his cock, straining against the fabric of his pants.

Jeritza doesn’t undress, only unlaces the front of his pants and pushes it down to reveal his erection. 

Felix makes a grab for his cock, but Jeritza stops him with a single word. “Don’t,” he warns. Felix freezes, swallowing reflexively. “Put your hands behind your back, and don’t move them unless I tell you to.”

Felix nods and does as he is told, his heart pounding.

“Good, my little Felix. So obedient for me,” Jeritza says, and takes himself in his hand. He’s hard as a rock, and Felix’s mouth waters at the sight of it. He never gets enough of the slight of Jeritza’s cock, especially when it’s red and swollen like this. 

“Open your pretty mouth for me.”

Felix feels his cock weep. “Or else?” He can’t stop himself from asking.

Jeritza is not in the mood for games, it seems. “Open. Your. Mouth.” 

Each word - slowly pronounced, leaving no room for doubt - sends chills up Felix’s spine. He couldn’t disobey even if he wanted to. Felix parts his lips as wide as he can, eyeing Jeritza’s cock expectantly, and sticks his tongue out eagerly.

Jeritza starts fisting himself roughly, with little finesse. Felix wants nothing more than to reach forward and take it in his mouth, down his throat. He feels empty, desperately so. But Jeritza told him not to move, and so his body is as unmoving as a statue.

“You’re so beautiful like this, on your knees for me, under me,” Jeritza moans, speeding up his pace. “Aren’t you hungry, my pet? Don’t you crave my seed?”

Felix moves his mouth to answer, but as soon as he tries to talk, Jeritza shoves his cock roughly down his throat. He grips Felix’s hair roughly and fucks his face at a savage pace.

“What was that?” Jeritza teases breathlessly and buries his cock as deep down Felix’s throat as he can, and keeps it there. “I can’t hear you.”

Try as he might, Felix can’t breathe, much less form words. He has long gotten rid of his gag reflex, but it still takes effort to relax his throat when Jeritza fills him like this. He’s had a few too many questions why his voice sounds so raspy half of the time.

His reply is nothing but a strangled vibration, and Jeritza groans obscenely, his cock swelling even bigger.

Felix can barely keep himself upright, let alone his eyes open. The lack of air is making him feel lightheaded, and just as Felix is about to pinch Jeritza’s leg, he pulls back. Sometimes Felix wonders who knows his limits better: Jeritza or he himself. On days like these, he would bet on the former.

Felix almost cries, not from the pain, not from the humiliation of being put used as a fucktoy, but from the loss of that glorious cock in his mouth. “Please,” he begs, his pride be damned. 

“Don’t cry, my little Felix. I will take care of you,” Jeritza says softly, but instead of putting his cock back between Felix’s eager lips, he starts jerking himself off rapidly again. “I know you’re hungry. Don’t worry, my sweetest, I will never let you starve.”

The words go straight to his cock. “Fuck!” Felix curses loudly. He’s so hard, so empty, but he doesn’t move an inch, as commanded. _“Please!”_

Jeritza’s starts bucking into his own hand uncontrollably, and it’s a glorious sight that has Felix shivering. “Keep your mouth open like that - ah, yes!”

He comes with a loud groan, and Felix doesn’t dare move an inch when Jeritza spills himself on Felix’s outstretched tongue, his cheeks, his chin, his hair. Fuck, he always comes so plentifully, and after their recent drought, his balls shoot sperm like a fountain onto Felix's face, messing him up spectacularly.

When he is finally done, Jeritza bows down to Felix’s level, and dips two fingers in the trails of come he spurted all over Felix’s face. He looks fascinated, his eyes dark with lust, and Felix could come just like that if commanded.

“Go on,” Jeritza says, his voice shaky. “Swallow your meal.”

Felix finally closes his mouth, and dutifully does as he is told. The taste of come is starting to grow on him. 

As soon as he opens his mouth again to breathe, Jertiza gathers some of his sperm from his cheek and puts his sticky fingers against Felix’s lips. “Drink every last drop. Everything, do you hear me? I promised I wouldn’t let you go hungry, so you better eat up.”

Felix's cock jumps and he nods enthusiastically, drool dripping from his lips. When Jeritza feeds him, he sucks his fingers like he would have loved to suck his cock. It has the desired effect, and Jeritza fucks them deeper into him, moaning loudly. Only after his fingers as clean as they ever were does Jeritza pull them out, only to swipe up more of his come, and feed it to Felix, one drop at a time.

Jeritza is already half-hard again by the time Felix has dutifully eaten all the seed offered to him. “What do we say after a good meal?” 

Felix groans. “Thank you for the meal,” he answers through gritted teeth, and wonders for a brief moment what his father would think if he heard he had finally learned table manners. 

“You’re welcome, my Felix,” Jeritza replies, and kisses him deeply, tasting himself on Felix’s tongue. “Now, will you let me taste you, too?”

Felix nods enthusiastically, all thoughts of his father out of the window. Jeritza descends upon him like a starving man, and before evening falls, Felix has lost his mind to Jeritza’s talented tongue and hungry mouth.

It isn't until he lays awake in his own bed later that night that he realizes that Jeritza never explained why he would be gone tonight. Felix narrows his eyes. He isn't the jealous type, but he has good instincts. Something is wrong. It's all very suspicious. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of a transition chapter, in which we see a little of the progressing storyline as well as Felix and Jeritza settling into their relationship. It turned out to be a lot more D/s than I originally intended, but hey, the porn writes itself I guess? I've never written sex as foreshadowing before, but it's pretty obvious to us that Jeritza's mental state is declining, even if Felix doesn't yet understand. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for the lovely reviews! I've been enjoying writing this story a whole lot, and I really would love to hear what parts you liked. The next chapter will take a bit longer, because I can't keep typing up 5k+ each evening like this forever, even if it is the most fun thing I've done in ages.


	4. in which Felix discovers that he has been fucking the Death Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix gets all tied up... and comes across some other loose ends.

As cold air begins to creep in from the north of Faerghus, Felix welcomes the reprieve from the unrelenting heat of summer. If he were at home, they would be preparing for the hunting season right now, but instead the Blue Lions House has been enlisted for another kind of hunt.

Flayn has been missing for three days. Felix rarely spoke to her before, but even he knows it’s unusual for her to wander off. Sylvain’s jokes that she must have eloped don’t make any sense, but it’s not the wildest rumor out there. Everyone is on edge, and Felix can’t pretend he isn’t affected. 

Even Jeritza - a man as tightly controlled as they come - is acting differently than usual. He handles his blade impulsively, as Felix tells Byleth when she asks about it, but that’s not really what tips him off. 

“Hold still,” Jeritza orders, looping the rope around his arms once more, pulling at the ends a few times.

“Or what?”

Jeritza doesn’t answer him, but instead shoves his head into the pillow and spanks his ass twice, hard. Felix makes a sound caught between a wince and a moan. Jeritza already slapped his ass a few times for talking back, which admittedly Felix mostly did to get some reaction out of him. Every hit had been harder, a little bit more vicious than the last, and that’s how Felix knows that something is bothering Jeritza. It’s in the way he moves, a little hesitant sometimes and a little too fast at others. The way he keeps staring at him whenever he thinks Felix isn’t looking. Something is wrong, but Felix doesn’t know how to fix it. He was raised to fight, to protect, and to serve. He was not raised to care or to heal, or to talk about his feelings. 

But sex? Give comfort with his body? That he can do. Which is exactly why he had marched into Jeritza’s room without prior announcement as soon as his friends went to bed, his long hair untied and shirt open to reveal the marks Jeritza had sucked into it a few nights ago. 

The look on Jeritza’s face when he sauntered into the room was one Felix would never forget. It didn’t take his lover long at all to undress him and have him bend over his knee. The rope was new though.

“Tell me if I am cutting off your circulation, or if you feel a tingling sensation,” Jeritza says softly, a stark contrast to how roughly he secures Felix’s arms behind his back. He ties it up with a big red bow, and just like that Felix can barely move his upper body.

It’s a little bit frightening for him to be restrained like this. He spends every waking hour perfecting the blade, honing his sword arm. To have the ability to move it at all taken away from him…

Felix swallows. “I could break out of this any moment.” 

Jeritza turns him around like he weighs nothing and smiles a little bit too wide. “I would like to see you try, my little Felix. One word and I will untie you, but without my assistance…” he trails off and runs his hands eagerly over his own handiwork. Licking his lips like he is only barely stopping himself from eating Felix. “Nobody could get out of these ties. You’re my helpless captive, and if I wanted, I could keep you here for days.” 

It’s not the first time he says that, but bound like this, his words have a little bit more impact. Felix wiggles. The ropes don’t budge an inch, and taking deep breaths is harder than usual, but it doesn’t hurt. Not yet at least. The position the obnoxious bow and his bound arms on his back force him to lie is awkward and uncomfortable.

One look at Jeritza tells him that that’s probably exactly what he wanted to achieve. 

He pushes Felix’s legs all the way up and bends him in two until his knees almost touch his ears. “You’re a work of art,” Jeritza praises and pushes a little bit harder. “Next time, I’ll tie you up like this, completely helpless.” 

“Why not now?” Felix taunts. “Scared you can’t handle me?” 

“I will need to acquire more rope, my sweetheart,” Jeritza says and leans his full weight on Felix’s thighs. Felix groans at the stretch. He’s become very flexible during the past few months, as Byleth and Jeritza keep praising him, although for entirely different reasons. 

Felix shakes his head. The last thing he wants to think about right now is Byleth and her questions about Jertiza. “Are you going to fuck me already or are you just going to stare all day?”

“You would deserve that after talking like that to me. Keep it up, and I will tie you to the bedpost and keep you on the edge until the morning light.” 

The words go straight to his cock, and Felix almost gives in. Almost. “All bark, no bite. Really? You’ve been unable to keep your hands off me ever since I walked in. Am I truly to believe that you could restrain yourself from fucking me? Tsss, don’t make me _laugh_!” He taunts with a cocky smile, and looks Jeritza straight in the eye, challenging him.

He expects Jeritza to spank him, but instead his lover dives down and bites the inside of Felix’s leg in retaliation, digging his teeth in until he breaks the skin. Felix quivers and his mouth falls open in a breathy groan as Jeritza sucks one dark mark after another into the skin. His mouth is so close to his cock, so close Felix that can feel the heat radiating from his skin. But Jeritza doesn’t touch him and it’s driving him insane.

“You’re beautiful like this,” Jeritza praises him sweetly and pulls back. “All wrapped up for me. Are you trying to tease me into filling your greedy hole, is that what you’re doing?” 

Felix shakes his head as Jeritza pushes two wet fingers into his hole and fucking him a few times. “Look how you clench, how you pull me in. Are you that desperate to be filled, that you can’t even ask me properly anymore?” 

“As if,” Felix pants breathlessly, feeling dizzy with want.

Jeritza lifts him like he weighs nothing. “Well, if you can’t beg me properly then I’ll have you work for it.” 

Felix expects him to put him on his knees and have Felix service him, his own cock aching between his legs the entire time. He will never admit how much he likes doing it. 

But today is different. “Undress me,” Jeritza demands and puts Felix down on his feet.

“If you hadn’t noticed, I can’t move my hands.” To emphasize his point, Felix tries to move his arms. The only thing he achieves is pulling the ropes tighter around his chest. 

Jeritza smiles salaciously and traces the outline of his lips with his finger. “You’re a smart boy, my little Felix, and you have a very talented mouth. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” He pries his lips apart, and hooks his finger behind Felix’s teeth, pulling him a little closer. “That is, unless this is too much of a challenge for you?” 

Felix nips his finger before it can retreat. Unlike Jeritza, he is all bark _and_ all bite, and they both know it. When Jeritza sets a challenge, Felix will try to meet it, no matter how silly. This isn’t the weirdest thing Jeritza has made him do, but it’s close. 

Felix sets to work. He starts nibbling on the clasp of Jeritza’s overcoat until he has it worked out and rips it off his body. His undershirt goes next, one agonizing button after another. It’s ridiculous and takes far too long, but Jeritza moans low in his throat every time Felix’s teeth scrape his skin through the fabric, which shouldn’t excite him as much as it does.

Taking off his pants with his teeth is a nuisance and a challenge at the same time. Jeritza keeps thrusting his hips into his face, undoing any progress Felix has made on the knots, but at the same time giving him a whiff of the arousal hidden underneath. Felix mouths his bulge through the fabric, but it isn’t enough to satisfy either of them. 

In the end, he gets so frustrated that he sinks his teeth into the leather cords and bites until they break. He drops all the way to the ground, dragging Jeritza’s breeches down with him. 

Before he can get up again, Jeritza puts his foot on the back of his neck and keeps him pushed against the ground. “Have you remembered your place yet?” Jeritza asks - no, _demands_. 

Naked, on his knees with his forehead pressed against the cold floor and his arms tied behind his back. His cock, aching hard. It’s as humiliating as it is blissful, and the two sides within him are at war with each other.

Sometimes, his rebellious side wins

“Answer me,” Jeritza demands and forces him harder against the ground.

But not today. Today, Felix lets his body go lax against the wooden floor and surrenders himself. His lips form the words before his mind has caught up. 

“Yes, I remember,” he moans breathlessly, only partially because of the ropes wrapped around his torso.

“And where is that?” 

“Beneath you.”

“Wrong,” Jeritza says, a delirious edge to his voice. “Your place is wherever I want it to be, because you belong to me.” 

“Yes, yours,” Felix parrots happily, licking his lips, arousal coursing through his veins. 

Jeritza finally removes his boot from his neck, but Felix doesn’t dare move until he is told to.

He hears rather than sees Jeritza take a deep, labored breath as if the mere sight of his submission is driving him over the edge. “You’re not done yet,” he says, his voice tense. “Take off my boots.” 

Felix nods and waits patiently for Jeritza to sit down on the bed before he lifts himself back up to his knees. It’s hard without the use of his hands, but if Jeritza’s leaking erection is any indication, he loves to see him struggle. When he finally manages to crawl towards him, Jeritza’s hands are shaking, pulling at his hair eagerly. 

Felix eyes the boots. Black. Armored. They look familiar, and yet he can’t remember Jeritza ever wearing them before. They’re not part of his usual ensemble, for sure. Felix would know. 

_Whatever,_ Felix thinks and starts pulling the leather straps hidden beneath the plate armor. It takes more than a few tries to take off the boots, and he doesn’t know which one of them is more frustrated by it.

“Such a beautiful, talented mouth,” Jeritza praises when Felix throws the last boot into the corner of his room with his teeth, the taste of leather and steel still on his lips. 

Jeritza pulls him up and on top of him, and kisses him roughly. Felix moans into the kiss and lets himself be devoured until all he can think is Jeritza’s teeth, his lips, his tongue. 

“You did so well, my sweetheart,” Jeritza praises him between kisses, his hands running rampant over his still tightly bound body. 

“ _Please_ ,” Felix begs desperately. “Have I not pleased you enough? Will you fuck me now?” 

“So eager for my cock,” Jeritza rasps. He pulls Felix’s legs apart until he is straddling him, his engorged cock rutting between his spread asscheeks. “If you want it, work for it. Show me how much you need it.” 

Felix moans, and even though his thighs are trembling, he lifts himself as far as he can go. Jeritza positions his cock upright, brushing the tip against Felix’s asshole.

He’s barely prepared, but it doesn’t stop him from sinking down on his cock, one agonizing inch after another. The lube and precome ease the way, but he’s still so tight that it takes a full minute before he has managed to stretch far enough to lower himself all the way down Jeritza’s cock. 

Felix gasps loudly, his head dizzy from want. The sting and the stretch are only fuel for the flames. He lifts himself up as far as he can manage and lets gravity pull him down again. “Oh, fuck!” he cries out as Jeritza’s cock splits him open even further, making him see stars. 

He does it again, impales himself harder and harder on his cock, moaning like a bitch in heat. His legs are burning from the strain and he wants nothing more than to undo the bindings that keep his arms on his back so he can properly leverage himself onto that cock, but Jeritza was right: the bindings are perfectly inescapable, and Felix feels perfectly powerless despite dictating the pace.

Jeritza groans loudly, and fucks slowly up into him, each thrust deliberate and hard. Felix gasps loudly when Jeritza wraps his hand around his throat and starts moving him up and down on his cock with it. 

“Look at how perfect you fit around my cock, my little Felix,” Jeritza purred sinfully, sounding as breathless as Felix feels. 

“Please!” Felix begs, but he doesn’t really know what he’s asking anymore. He feels as lost as Jeritza looks, sweating and ready to burst, arousal pulsing through him from his head to his toes. “Harder! Please, fuck me harder!” 

Time seems to slow down, and all Felix can focus on is the pressure of Jeritza’s fingers wrapped around his neck and the sensation of his cock filling him one powerful thrust at a time. A thousand years or a single minute could have passed while he existed solely to be fucked, and Felix would not have known the difference. 

He begs for things he doesn’t even remember, and Jeritza keeps praising him, keeps telling him how beautiful he is like this, how he never wants to let him go, and Felix is nearly in tears by the time he is finally allowed to come. 

His release has him screaming Jeritza’s name from the top of his lungs until Jeritza cuts off his air supply in the middle of his orgasm, making him come even harder. His entire body shakes, and he’s crying from pleasure and pain, hot teardrops spilling on the ropes. 

His cock is still pulsing when his back gives out, and he falls on top of Jeritza. His hard cock still thrusts up into Felix, each movement making him feel so sensitive that it is almost as if he dies a little bit every time it hits his prostate.

Felix doesn’t protest, doesn’t move a limb when Jeritza pulls him off his cock and onto his own stomach. He only whimpers pitifully when he is mounted from behind, and Jeritza starts fucking into him like a man possessed. 

“You’re mine,” Jeritza demands, his voice dangerously low and twisted like it sometimes gets when he seems particularly lost in his pleasure and finally lets go of his tight control. “Say it!” 

“Yours!” Felix promises, barely being able to breathe between each thrust. He’s so sensitive, so utterly intoxicated, and all he wants is for this to never stop. 

But Jeritza is human too, and after four desperate thrusts, Felix feels him go tense behind him. “Fuck,” Jeritza grunts and spills himself deep inside Felix. 

He shallowly fucks himself through his orgasm, pushing his come deep inside Felix, not allowing a single drop to go to waste. _He’s like an animal like that sometimes,_ Felix thinks, _marking his territory._ The bitemarks littered all over his body are all the more proof. 

When he is finally satisfied, Jeritza undoes the ropes that Felix had almost forgotten were there. He carefully massages his arms, kisses the rope burn on the inside of his wrist, and murmurs words of praise that Felix is too fucked out to truly register. 

After they were both moderately cleaned up, Jeritza lets himself fall into bed next to Felix, and Felix instinctively curls himself against that warm, hard body. 

“You were wonderful tonight,” Jeritza says, pressing a kiss against the crown of his hair. 

“Hmm,” Felix murmurs back, sleep already catching up with him. 

Jeritza presses a gentle kiss against his lips. “Will you come with me?” 

Felix blinks. “Where? When?” 

“I know you are… _unhappy_ with your position as heir of Fraldarius, the promised servant to the crown,” Jeritza starts hesitantly. “Have you ever considered a world in which noble titles can be shed like clothes, and you can be free to pursue your own goals?” 

“Sometimes,” Felix confesses, feeling a quiet sense of dread bloom up in his chest and steal his sleep away from him.

There is something off about Jeritza’s voice, his gaze, his arms wrapped around him. He looks and sounds like he is about to lose him, which makes even less sense than this conversation since Felix feels more and more beholden to him every day.

“This is my last year of teaching. I would love-- I mean I would prefer to not part with you. Ever,” he says, and Felix almost can’t bear to meet the intensity of his gaze. “Leave with me. Let our blades cut the way forward, together.” 

Felix forces himself to look at Jeritza - look _through_ him. It’s not like he has never considered setting off on his own, to abandon his title. He wasn’t born to inherit anyway, a second son through and through. But there are always things that keep him from seriously considering it. To abandon his title, would be to abandon everything he ever knew, and as much as he hates the death-worshiping philosophy his home country is so keen on, it’s still his home.

But here, in the circle of Jeritza’s arms, far away from Faerghus, he feels at home too. Doubt eats at his guts, taking away the last of his bliss. 

“I’ll think about it,” he says eventually. It’s an honest promise, and Jeritza nods gravely before kissing him passionately. 

“Let me know before the end of the month,” Jeritza says ominously. “And I will take care of everything else. I will take care of you, my little Felix.” 

Felix scoffs but nestles deeper into his embrace all the same. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me.” 

“No, you don’t. But it would please me to do so all the same,” Jeritza says with a saccharine smile. “For many years, I have rarely felt any desire other than to kill and to become stronger. Everything else was fleeting, inferior. Until you came along and wormed your way into my bed.” 

Felix shivers pleasantly while recalling the memory of that first night. “You put me there yourself if I remember correctly.” 

“You went down willingly,” Jeritza reminds him and wraps them safely into his blankets. “And you keep coming back to me.”

Felix can’t really deny that without lying, so instead he just allows Jeritza to pamper him until they both fall asleep. It takes him longer than usual. He’s probably overthinking things, but something he can’t quite pinpoint feels very strange. 

**XXX**

Felix wakes up early the next morning, before the first light of dawn. It’s a habit - ingrained within him after extensive practice during the past few months of sleeping with Jeritza - that allows him to sneak back into his room unseen. It's nothing out of the ordinary. 

What _is_ odd, is that Jeritza is still snoring beside him. He’s usually gone at this time, training or doing whatever he does in the morning. Felix asked once and got a vague answer in return, so he hasn’t tried pushing again. It’s not bad, waking up together. He barely restrains himself from clinging to Jeritza’s exposed back and sinking his teeth into the curve of his neck. It’s tempting, but the entire monastery is on edge since Flayn’s disappearance and he doesn’t want to push his luck by going back to his room after dawn.

His entire body aches when he carefully drags himself out of bed. He’s going to need a bath later today. Maybe if he skips Reason class he can manage to take one in private. His friends call him shy or prude, but Felix doesn't care about their remarks. Not compared to what they would be saying if they saw what he looks like underneath his clothes most day. The ropes sure left their marks on him, not to mention the bite marks. 

Felix looks at Jertiza fondly while he puts on his uniform. It’s a rare sight to see hem so unguarded, but not an unwelcome one. He presses a kiss against his shoulder. Jertiza stirs vaguely but otherwise doesn’t wake up.

For a moment, Felix imagines waking up like this every morning. Hunting breakfast together. Reviewing contracts, and later fulfilling them with a sword in hand. The life of a mercenary would suit them both, he thinks, far away from prying eyes. He could have all of this, every day and every night. It won’t be easy, but it would be nice. Jeritza's question is tempting, and that above all scares him the most. That he’s actually considering abandoning everything he knows for this man. 

He turns away before he can get too conflicted or sentimental, but as he does, something catches his eye. Through the blinds, a sliver of moonlight falls on the bookshelf. It’s mounted to the wall. It shouldn’t cast a shadow like that, but it's there all the same.

Curiously, Felix walks towards it and runs his fingers over the wooden furniture. Pushes it once, and the bookshelf moves back against the wall soundlessly. An unsettling feeling pools in his stomach, but it doesn't stop him. Felix grabs the side of the bookshelf, and _pulls_. 

The bookcase doesn’t make a single sound when it moves away, revealing a hidden entrance. Garreg Mach is supposedly filled with secret tunnels and it is even murmured amongst the knights that underneath them an entire second society exists. Felix has yet to encounter any of it, but right in front of him is proof enough that at least some of the gossip was true.

He looks over his shoulder to Jeritza. Considers waking him, but decides against it. He’s not a coward, and he doesn’t need help. Something is wrong, and Felix is about to get to the bottom of it. 

Mindful of his steps, Felix walks through the torchlit passageway. It's dusty but Felix has spent too many years hunting to not recognize a path well-used when he sees one.

Suddenly he is all the more glad he decided against waking Jeritza. By the time he makes it to the end of the passage, he has more questions than when he left. _Does Jeritza know about this?_ Felix can’t imagine he doesn’t, but the implications of that thought are damning. The hallway splits off into several rooms, connected to each other with ancient warping circles he hasn’t ever seen outside of Castle Gautier. He feels almost juvenile, hopping from one room to another, but he is driven by the need to know what the hell is going on down here to keep moving. 

Glenn told him to always trust his instincts, and right now they’re screaming at him that something is horribly wrong. Every weapon he finds is more incriminating than the previous one. Why would anyone hide these priceless, well cared for blades here? His head hurts, and not just from the lack of sleep. He takes the Levin Sword with him just in case, clutching it with all his might. 

He’s almost ready to turn around and demand answers from Jeritza when he hears a muffled shriek. Felix whirls around, his sword ready to strike, but there is no one preparing to attack him. Instead, bound, gagged, and huddled in the farthest corner of the room, is Flayn. She looks at him desperately, her eyes wide with fear and relief at the same time.

Felix runs towards her and pulls off the gag. “What the hell are you doing here? Your brother is worried sick for you!” 

“I did not come here of my own volition!” She says, her voice broken from disuse. “I was taken by the Death Knight!” 

Felix’s eyes go wide and the ball of unease in his stomach turns into a concrete brick. “The Death Knight?” He repeats.

Flayn nods, struggling within her bindings.

His gaze falls to the ropes. They're a familiar red, looped and tied intricately in a way that renders her completely helpless. He tugs at the knots, but they’re tied in such a way that they don’t cut off the circulation. On the back, a large red bow tops the entire thing off. 

“No…,” Felix stammers, his knees shaking. “It… it _can’t_ be…” 

“Please, release me Felix!” Flayn pleads, and Felix only barely has the strength of mind to pull out his sword and cut the ropes carefully until Flayn is free at last. “Hurry! We have to leave at once! Who knows when he will return, and what he will do to either of us!” 

“Flayn,” Felix says, but his voice sounds as if it comes from a mile away. “Tell me. Who is the Death Knight?" He swallows deeply, feeling sick. "Is it… Jeritza?” 

Flayn nods gravely. “I was surprised too, but upon seeing his face, there was no mistaking his identity.” 

Felix pulls himself away just in time to refrain from throwing up all over her. He heaves until there is nothing left in his stomach, but he barely feels the shocks pass through his body. 

Inside, a thousand little suspicions click into place. The sudden disappearances in the middle of the night. The scars and the mood changes. The black boots, so familiar yet not. Of course, he had seen them before! On the Death Knight’s feet! Even his gaze had felt familiar.

Felix shivers, tears running down his cheeks. A new wave of nausea makes him fall to his knees. Felix slams his fists against the floor with all his might. _Why did he not realize this before? Why Jeritza? Why did it have to be him?_

A cooling light engulfs him, and Felix looks to the side to see Flayn staring at him with big, worried eyes, casting a healing spell on him. “Are you alright, Felix? What happened?” 

Felix wouldn’t know how to answer that question even if he could talk right now, so instead, he lets himself fall to the side, away from the puddle he just threw up and focuses on his breathing. 

In. Out. In. Out. Nothing but the air in his lungs and a sword in his hand.

But even his sword reminds him of Jeritza, of his patient smile and his wicked laugh. Of his hands, sometimes careful, sometimes cruel. Goddess, it’s all there, isn’t it? He’s a fool, the greatest fool of all of Fodlan. 

“We must leave,” Flayn reminds him urgently, her small hands so different from-- _No, don’t think about that right now._

It takes more than one try to get back up, even with her help. He doesn’t know how he manages to get them both all the way back to the passage that brought them here, but Felix is stumbling through every step. Inside his mind, he replays every moment he and Jeritza spend together the past few months, every conversation they’ve ever had. He can barely breathe, and his heart feels like it’s torn into a thousand pieces.

Why why _why whywhywhy--_

Just when he thinks it can’t get worse, Jeritza is standing in front of the secret door opening. He’s only half-dressed, but it’s not in his usual clothing, oh no. His obsidian armor glimmers in the pale moonlight, looking as menacing as the last time Felix saw it. All that is missing from the Death Knight's armor, are the gloves and the helmet. Felix can spot them lying in the chest in the corner that Felix always wondered what was locked inside. 

He has the answer now, but he almost wishes he didn't. If he had anything left in him to throw up, he would have. 

Jeritza - no, the Death Knight - stares at them. His eyes are wide in shock, and he’s not smiling now. 

How long ago did Felix kiss him last? Five minutes ago? An hour? A thousand years? 

Felix bites the inside of his cheek, banishes his doubts for later, and pulls Flayn behind him. He raises the stolen Levin Sword and points it straight at Jeritza's throat. The blade trembles as much as his hands.

“ _Don’t_ , my little Felix,” Jeritza begs softly.

“Don’t _what_ ,” Felix screams back, fresh tears burning in his eyes. “Don’t find out that you’ve been lying to me this entire time? That you have been slaughtering people left and right while I…. while I….”

Jeritza averts his eyes. “I never wished for you to find out like this.”

“I can’t think of any way that would make this any better!” He sounds only half as hysterical as he feels, which is a feat considering how broken his voice is.

“You know me better than anyone here,” Jeritza states, his voice low, but his eyes tell a different story. “But not even you know the true darkness within me. With you I could forget, could even reconcile both sides of myself sometimes. I thought that…”

“Shut up! Just looking at your face makes me wanna retch,” Felix chokes. It’s not entirely a lie. Flayn grips his sleeve tightly, and he can feel the telltale of magic gathering under her fingertips.

Jeritza winces. “I had hoped you would understand. Perhaps, in time…”

Felix narrows his eyes. “In time?” 

He stares at Felix, looking resigned. “I can’t let you escape now that you know my secret, my little Felix--”

Felix cuts him off. “Fuck, stop calling me that! I don’t want to belong to you!”

Jeritza takes a menacing step forward, and a black scythe materializes out of thin air. “... you do. You will. In time, you will remember where you belong,” he says slowly, every word laced with that delirium Felix normally only hears in the middle of their most heated moments together.

Felix's eyes go wide in fear. He takes a step back, and then another, but he has spent so much time with Jeritza that he knows exactly what he is capable of. Felix considers himself a good fighter, but he’s not nearly on the same level as his lover, nor as fast. They don't stand a chance.

“Hold on,” Flayn whispers, and wraps her hands around him.

Before Felix can ask her what she’s talking about, the world around him starts to spin and a light green magic circle lights up the dark cave. 

“Felix, no, don’t leave! Stay with me!” Jeritza cries and lunges forward, but he’s too late. 

The last thing Felix sees before Flayn teleports them both away, is the heartbroken look on Jertiza’s face, a mirror image of the pain he bleeding agony beating rapidly in his chest. 

**XXX**

Flayn’s Rescue spell doesn’t cover a large distance, and they arrive barely outside of the Knight’s Quarters. The usually bustling roads surrounding the monastery are deserted, but Felix and Flayn don’t take their chances. They start running towards the cathedral the moment they hit the ground.

“Help us!” Flayn cries out from the top of her lungs. “The Death Knight is chasing us!”

It’s a good strategy, Felix can admit despite the numbness that is slowly starting to overtake him. Jeritza could take them both down, but not after cutting his way through half of the Knights of Seiros. 

The Gatekeeper is the first to come to their aid, and within minutes half the monastery is awake and gathering up arms. 

“Flayn!” Seteth cries out desperately as soon as he sees them. His sister all but propels herself into his arms, bawling. “Are you alright? What happened to you?”

“I’m alright, brother,” she says, still clutching his chest. “Felix saved me.”

Slowly but surely, a large crowd is gathering around them. As soon as she says his name, all eyes focus on him. Felix is too tired to care. 

He distantly registers someone calling his name repeated. A blanket is wrapped around him, but the soft fabric feels wrong against his skin.

“Felix?” Ingrid repeats, and Felix looks up at her. Can barely make out her downright frightened features through his blurry eyesight. “What happened? You look like death itself.”

He can’t help himself. Something breaks within him, and through the tears, he starts laughing maniacally. Once he's started, he can't stop. He sinks to his knees and clutches his chest, and howls like a wounded animal.

_Why Jeritza? Why did it have to be him? And why was Felix to stupid to figure it out before?_

“Felix…?” Someone - Sylvain, probably - asks careful, but his voice barely registers in his mind. “Calm down, you’re scaring me. What happened? Why do you look like someone tried to-- Wait, did someone--” 

Felix can’t even remember if he bothered to button up his collar to hide Jeritza’s marks, or if he put his hair up again. The telltale bruises left by the ropes curl around his wrists, on display for the world to see. He doesn’t care, not anymore. Everything hurts, and nothing makes sense. 

Flayn says something, but the words are just air to him. He’s shivering and laughing still. Or sobbing. He doesn’t know the difference anymore, doesn’t know anything.

_How could he have been so stupid? So blind?_

Suddenly Dimitri is all up in his space, all Felix can see. He grips shoulders in a parody of gentleness and shakes him slightly. His eyes are the clearest blue, but the set of his brow promises nothing but murder to whoever hurt Felix. It’s almost nostalgic in the worst ways possible. 

Felix looks him dead in the eyes, and chokes out: “Jeritza is the Death Knight.” The words come out like the last words of a fallen soldier, and by the Goddess, Felix feels just as crushed. “I’ve been sleeping with the Death Knight for months.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bondage as foreshadowing, as I live and breathe. I never thought I'd see the day I could use kinky sex and call it plot-relevant! But yeah, this chapter is a rollercoaster of emotions for sure. The higher they climb, the harder they fall, and although I am almost sad to break this thing they had going, this chapter was the original prompt dear OP gave me, so I hope I managed to deliver. 
> 
> The next chapter is technically the end of this story, but I'm very invested, so I might continue the story post time skip. Stay tuned!
> 
> Last but not least, thanks for the wonderful response. I've been possibly giddy with joy all week because of all your kind, horny comments. This fic is very self-indulgent, but I'm so glad that I've managed to get so many people invested in this repair.


	5. in which Felix discovers he is loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which dirty laundry is aired.

Everything that happens next is a blur. Some people whisper, some people run around screaming, and Felix is too tired and too broken to catch any of it. All he can see is the quiet rage in Dimitri’s eyes, the disbelief warping into understanding. 

“All those nights…?” 

Felix nods through the sobs. “All those nights.”

There is a sick satisfaction in disappointing the Boar, Felix tells himself, even if it feels painfully like a stab through the heart. 

“Wait wait wait back up a moment,” Sylvain stammers. “Sleeping with, as in…” 

Felix is about to give a very graphic explanation of what sleeping means in this context when Ingrid knocks Dimitri’s hands away from his shoulders. “This is not the time nor the place for this discussion,” she says resolutely. “Let’s get him to his room, and patch up his wounds.”

“You will not,” a commanding voice breaks through the noise. Felix looks up to see the Archbishop herself stride forward. The mass parts before her, bowing and muttering. 

Rhea kneels down in front of Felix her eyes burning yet cold. “Are you certain that Jeritza is the Death Knight?” 

Felix chokes on a sob but nods firmly.

Rhea studies him sternly for a moment, before her face splits in a comforting smile, not unlike Flayn’s. “Thank you, for saving Flayn. Manuela, please take them both to the infirmary. I think they have been through enough, for now.”

Manuela must have agreed, but Felix doesn’t register it. Rhea’s hand glows pure white for a moment, her voice barely above a whisper, and then suddenly sleep silences his screaming mind. He feels someone lift him up and carry him away, but it’s almost as if he isn’t in his own body. The last thing he remembers before the world quickly fizzles out of shape, and his eyes close on their own, is the feeling of a firm chest pressing against his cheek, and the faint smell of chamomile. Everything else is black.

**XXX**

When Felix wakes up again, the sun is high in the sky and he’s dressed in a white gown. His entire body aches, and his eyes are puffy and painful to open. He's lying in a bed that is neither his or Jer-

An image of black armor flashes past his eyes. Blue eyes. A familiar voice, frantic: _“Felix, no, don’t leave! Stay with me!”_

Tears burn behind his eyelids. A terrible headache makes itself known suddenly, making Felix groan loudly. 

“You have finally awakened!” A high pitched voice tears through his already sore. “I am so glad!”

“ _Please_ shut up,” Felix grumbles, and carefully opens one eye. The light hurts, but after a few seconds of rapid blinking, a shock of green hair stands out among the vast ocean of white. 

It’s Flayn, confined to a bed in the infirmary. The room smells sterile in a way that makes Felix uncomfortable. 

“I was worried you were going to be asleep for another day. It has been so boring here, on my own, but my fa- _brother_ won’t allow me to leave,” Flayn prattles on, although her voice is somewhat softer than before. “Honestly! I am as likely to be taken here as anywhere else! Besides, with half the knights of Seiros guarding us, I am certain we will be safe.”

“Safe…” Felix wonders out loud, his empty stomach sinking. “Did they… catch him?”

“The Death Knight?” Felix nods. “No. But rest assured, the Black Eagle class has been sent out to track him, along with several knights, my brother and even Lady Rhea herself! The underground passages of Garreg Mach are being combed out as we speak. If he is still here, they will find him.”

Felix swallows deeply. “That’s…. _good_ ,” he manages to croak out, but what remains of his heart is in open warfare with the rest of him. He wants them to find the Death Knight, have him answer for his crimes… and yet, at the same time, he doesn’t want Jeritza to die, to suffer.

He sits up and clutches his head between his hands. The headache doesn’t fade, and every time he banishes the intrusive thoughts from his mind, another memory pops up. 

He can smell the scent of his hair, taste his breath - always a bit too sweet, a tell-tale giveaway of his preferences. He remembers the sweets he bought on impulse last time he went out to buy new weapon polish, lying on top of his desk. He was going to give them to Jeritza last night, to cheer him up from whatever was bothering him, but forgot to bring them in his eagerness.

“ _Dammit_ ,” he curses softly underneath his breath, fisting the sheets. There are still some faint burn marks on his wrists. He brushes his fingers over the point where his shoulder meets his neck, touches the marks he knows are still there. _Wants_ them to be there despite everything, because he isn’t ready yet to wake up and not see them there, knowing that they will never be replaced by new ones.

It's over. But he's not ready for the end.

Flayn’s voice cuts through his downward spiral like a knife. “Did you truly...“ 

“Did I truly _what_?” Felix sneers back, all of the pain he feels inside bared like poison on his lips.

“Lay with him?”

Felix looks away, an uncomfortable heat rushing to his cheeks. “.....I didn’t know he was the Death Knight.” It’s as much as a yes she is getting.

“I did not imply you were. But I was there, I saw how you looked at him, how he looked at you,” Flayn explains patiently, and every word brings back more memories, more damned emotions. “I am merely surprised. You have always seemed like such a closed-off person. I wished to get know you better, but all you were interested in was training. I am surprised to hear that you engaged in such a relationship, especially with a man like him. Was he… good to you?” 

_Yes,_ Felix thinks. _Despite all the lies and all the secrecy, he was very good to me_. And that’s what makes it hurt so much. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Flayn’s sad smile is too much to bear. “You do not have to,” she says kindly. “It must be hard to realize someone you love is capable of such monstrosity. I do not envy you.”

Felix almost chokes on his own tongue. “I do not---!” He exclaims angrily, but as he starts denying it, his bleeding heart beats painfully, dully, and he loses the will. “I…” He tries again, but the words aren’t coming. 

And he wonders, not for the first time. Did he love Jeritza? Or perhaps more importantly, does he? 

Felix looks away from Flayn’s knowing eyes, and bites the inside of his cheek until it bleeds. The pain at least is familiar, comforting if not empty. “I feel like shit,” he says hoarsely after a long silence that is as damning as any confession he could ever make. 

“I am sorry.”

“Why? This has nothing to do with you.” 

Flayn sighs deeply. “Because somehow I feel responsible for your loss. You came to my aid. Without you, who knows what would have happened.” 

Her praise means nothing to him. “We would have found you eventually. Everyone was up and running looking for you.” 

Flayn hesitates. Bites her lip, and looks between him and the door several times, and then towards the window. When she speaks again, her voice is nothing but a low murmur, easily lost in the wind. “Do not tell my brother I told you this, but my blood has a certain value. Disregarding my own health and safety, it would have been disastrous if it fell in the wrong hands,” she whispers cryptically, her hand placed over her heart. “Thanks to your bravery - to your sacrifice - a great doom was averted, and I am yet alive. I can never thank you enough.”

Felix stares at her. Thinks of the rumors about her and Seteth. There are a thousand things he doesn’t know, but he feels like he is on the precipice of a great discovery. He _hates_ it. He doesn’t want anything to do with any secret right now, not after Jeritza. 

Anger flares up in his chest, and he clings to it. It’s far better than the feeling of being torn to pieces. 

“I’m tired. I’m going to sleep,” he grits out, flops back into his bed, and turns his back to Flayn.

“But you only just woke up! Please, Felix, I beg of you! We can play a game! I have some fruit, what if I throw it in the air, and you cut it in two? Felix? FELIX! Stop ignoring me! I know you are not asleep yet.”

**XXX**

The rest of the day is a whirlwind of visitors. Manuela does a medical checkup, and even though he tells her nothing about the exact nature of his and Jeritza’s relationship, her disapproving look tells him all he needs to know. She asks him some uncomfortable questions and gives him some even more uncomfortable and unwanted advice in regards to safe sex practices. But she relents when he refuses to let her heal the marks. By the time she is done, he is burning with shame.

Next, after Flayn has finally successfully bartered her release, Shamir comes in to take his official statement. She’s cold and detached about it, but her merciless line of questioning is humiliating and painful. She promises that nothing he says will become public knowledge, but he doesn’t need to ask to know the Church is obligated to send a letter to his father. And even if they don't, the entire monastery heard him when he confessed he was fucking Jeritza. His father has ears everywhere, and just like that, his entire life is falling apart. 

He doesn’t cry, refuses to. Instead, he takes every bit of humiliation, every agonizing memory - every hope and regret he had - and pushes it out of the window. It’s easy to become numb after that, to just let the hours pass by until he is finally discharged from the infirmary.

The whispers behind his back only hurt for a moment. _The Death Knight’s Bitch_ and _Traitor_ are kind compared to other things they call him, but Felix keeps putting one step in front of the other. Eats his dinner in silence, not even half-listening to Annette’s well-intentioned prattle. He would enjoy her voice normally, but now he can barely make out the words. The world around him fades to grey, and hours go by, one by unremarkable one. Nothing makes sense, but that’s okay. He’s nobody, and nothing really matters anyway. 

That night, he dreams of a warm body wrapped around his own. When he looks up to see who it belongs to, he doesn’t find the soft blue eyes he expected to find. A black mask and blazing red eyes stare back, and Felix wakes up gasping, feeling more exhausted than before he went to sleep.

**XXX**

When opens his door intending to leave his room the next morning - tired from his dreams that are more like twisted memories - he discovers Ingrid in front of it, one arm raised, ready to knock.

“Oh,” she says, somewhat awkwardly. “You’re awake. I didn’t hear you move about in your room.”

Felix flinches involuntarily. Thinks back on why he put the effort in learning how to move silently, and then quickly buries the memory again. It doesn't matter. Nothing does.

“What do you want,” he sneers, but it doesn’t come out with any of his usual bite. 

“We want to talk,” she says resolutely. 

“ _We_?” 

Only then he looks over Ingrid’s shoulder to see Sylvain lounging against the wall. He smiles at Felix, but it’s not real. He’s not even putting in much effort. 

“Can we come in?” Ingrid asks, rather than just storming past him like she usually would when he has done something she detests. She normally doesn’t take Sylvain with him when she lectures him, though.

Felix considers slamming the door in her face, but doesn’t. He doesn’t want to hear what she has to say, doesn’t want to be told how much he fucked up. Nobody knows better than him, and even though the numb fog that has overtaken his senses he can still feel his heart ache. 

He steps aside wordlessly. Doesn’t protest when his childhood friends make themselves at home in his room. Instead he sits down on top of the bed Jeritza once kissed him on and waits for the proverbial shoe to drop.

Sylvain closes the door behind them but doesn't say anything. Felix doesn't look at them, regrets letting them in. Nobody says a word until Ingrid breaks the silence after a long, pregnant pause. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yes,” he answers tonelessly.

Sylvain rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything, too busy inspecting his desk. A sick, twisted part of Felix’s brain wants to tell him exactly what happened there, toss painful truths around until Sylvain and Ingrid finally leave him alone, and never come back. 

That same part of him wants to set his entire room on fire and burn the monastery down, himself along with it. Destroy the world until it as broken as he feels. 

“You don’t look the part,” Ingrid says delicately, tip-toeing around him with more grace than he had thought her capable of.

She’s treating him like he’s fragile, he realizes. It’s worse than the screaming than the rumors and the silent judgment he has faced all of yesterday. If he wasn’t so tired, he would have exploded at her for it. Instead, he slumps forward and holds his head between his hands and says:

“Go ahead, get on with it.”

“Excuse me?”

Felix sighs, feeling like a sheep waiting for slaughter. No need to prolong his suffering. “You came here to scream at me, didn’t you? For sleeping with Jeritza. For letting him--”

“What? No! I’m not angry with you!” Ingrid exclaims indignantly. “I mean, what you did was stupid. Even Sylvain has more sense than to sleep with a Professor. But we came here because frankly, you look like hell. And after what happened, we were worried.”

Felix glances up to look her in the eye. “ _Worried_ ,” he repeats emotionlessly, not believing a word she says.

Ingrid lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Is that truly such a stretch?” She asks, her eyes blazing. “Felix, you didn’t see yourself two days ago. You were screaming, sobbing. I… I don’t think I’ve seen you cry since Glenn’s funeral.”

 _Great_. Let’s bring up his dead brother while they’re at it. It’s not like he doesn’t feel miserable enough already. Talking about his perfect - did he mention dead? - older brother, who would have never fucked up as badly as Felix does on a daily basis, is just the icing on the cake. 

“I’m _fine_ ,” he repeats, more forcefully this time. “You can leave.”

“Felix-”

“I said I was _fine!”_ Felix yells back at her. His heart pounds in his chest, and some of his familiar anger is back. _“_ Now leave me the hell alone!”

He doesn’t often yell at Ingrid. That is reserved for the Boar, or Dedue when he does something stupid that will get himself killed for no reason at all. He sees her shrink back a bit into herself, but refuses to feel guilty about it. The sooner she realizes he’s a hopeless case, the better. 

Sylvain seemingly materializes in front of him out of nowhere. “Listen up, buddy,” he says, his voice low and his smile paper-thin. “Ingrid might not be angry, but I am.”

“ _Sylvain.”_ Felix hears Ingrid threaten, but he can’t see her. Not with Sylvain all up in his space, the grip on his wrist as tight as iron. 

Sylvain ignores her, and instead pulls Felix up to his feet. “Why the hell didn’t you tell us? Didn’t tell me?” He bellows, a fire in his eyes Felix only rarely gets to see. “We’re your friends, Felix! Your best friends! When I was going through hell, you were all there for me. Held me when I puked my guts out after we killed Miklan, remember? So why the hell didn’t you trust us?”

Felix looks away, hot shame burning on his cheeks. “It was none of your business.”

“You were fucking a man for months without telling anyone! Doesn’t that raise any red flags for you? That he was hiding something?”

“I thought we were both just--”

“What, hiding you were gay?” Sylvain let’s out a derisive laugh, and Felix feels even smaller. “You could have fucking told us. No, _should_ have. Do you really think we would have judged you for liking men? After everything I stick my cock into on a regular basis, after all the verbal abuse you lash out almost daily, you think who you fancy is going to make us hate you? Do you really think so low of us?”

Felix shakes his head, that vicious part of him that wants nothing more than to hurt people like he has been hurt bubbling up within him, screaming to be let out. He straightens himself and balls his fist into Sylvain’s shirt, his eyes narrowed. 

“And what would that have accomplished? You always whine on and on about the pressure your parents put on you as the heir, but I wasn’t born to be heir either, you know!” At the end, he is no longer speaking. He is screaming, his voice high and filled with all the terrible, terrible feelings he normally keeps deep inside of him. “Do you think this has been _easy_ for me?”

“I wouldn’t know, because you never fucking talk to us!” Sylvain screeches back.

“Maybe I don’t want to talk to you. Maybe, for once in my life, I want to have something for myself!” 

Sylvain laughs cruelly. “I think you’re just a coward,” he says slowly, each word a dagger in Felix’s heart. “Scared of being vulnerable, scared of how we would react.” 

For four grueling years, Felix has tried to kill the boy that clung to his brother’s coat and bawled his eyes out every time lightning struck. Has tried to erase every part of him, scorch him from history. But here, in his room, there is no hiding from him, not when there are two people know every painful, emotional part of him. And Sylvain - even if he rarely turns it against his friends - is a master of twisting every weakness he can find into a weapon.

Felix can’t help it. Tears burn into his eyes, and the child within him cries. He pulls himself away from Sylvain, and stomps towards the door.

“Coward!” Sylvain hollers after him. “Newsflash! You’re an asshole, and we love you anyway! Whoever you decide to fuck doesn’t change that!”

“What Sylvain is trying to say, is that we’ve got your back. In battle, and outside of it too,” Ingrid interjects diplomatically before Felix can turn around and redirect the whirlpool of emotion in his gut into something productive, like shutting Sylvain up. Permanently. “Felix, I know the past few years have been hard on all of us. But… we want to be there for you. But you have to let us in. _Please_ , Felix.”

Her last words are not demands. She’s begging him. After everything he has done, after all of his mistakes and bad decisions are on the table, Ingrid is still pleading him. But it doesn’t sound like her exasperated attempts to get him to attend class, it sounds like a final attempt to reach out to him.

For a moment Felix considers walking out of that door, out of their lives. This is a point of no return, he realizes suddenly. If he turns his back on them now, he will put a permanent line between their shared past and his future. 

His knees shake, and he lets his head rest against the door. He doesn't open the door. 

“I…. I don’t know how,” he admits with a raw voice, every word an undertaking. “Goddess, I’m a fool, am I not?”

“You are,” Ingrid chokes out.

“But you’re our fool,” Sylvain adds, his voice sounding a bit off too. 

Felix bangs his head against the door. The pain grounds him. “I’m going to kill him,” he promises, maybe to himself, maybe to them, maybe to Jeritza. “The next time I see him, he’s going to pay for making a fool out of me.” 

Sylvain’s laugh is dry and not at all amused. “Not if we get to him first. You should have seen Dimitri’s face… The next time we see the Death Knight, I don’t think there is anything the professor can do to keep us from attacking him.” Then, more darkly he adds: “I for one, can’t wait to give him a taste of the Lance of Ruin. You don’t mess with one of our own.” 

A sudden, unexpected shock of dread flares up within him. “Don’t,” Felix warns him. “I’m serious. He’s mine.” 

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he realizes how they must sound. How much he still means them. Felix punches the door with all of his might, and then once more. His knuckles hurt wonderfully, but it’s not enough. “Damnit. Damn it all to hell! Why does it hurt so much!” He cries out, his breath hitching in his chest painfully, his heart ready to break all over again. “He lied to me! Used me! I shouldn’t still think of him as--” _mine._

He’s too tired, too angry, too confused to keep the sob from escaping his lips. Just one, but it wrecks him all the same.

Felix flinches when he feels a large, warm hand pat his back awkwardly. It’s Sylvain’s, he reminds himself forcefully.

“You really did love him, didn’t you?” Sylvain wonders out loud, and Felix doesn’t have it in him to answer with anything but another poorly contained sob. “So he didn’t, like… force you?”

 _Only when I wanted him too._ “He….,” Felix swallows deeply and wills the memories away. The good ones hurt the most. “He was good to me. I… I liked it. A lot. It wasn’t just… just a fling.”

Admitting it does not make him feel better at all. It only makes him feel even more exhausted. He allows Ingrid to guide him away from the door, and back onto his bed. His friends flank him on either side, and later Felix will never admit to the fact that their presence was the only reason he was able to sit up straight.

“Why don’t you start at the beginning,” Ingrid suggests calmly, her voice patient. “Was Jeritza the first…?”

Felix looks at Sylvain, his eyes still watery. Sneaks another look at Ingrid. Neither of them really want to hear the details, he can tell. They’re from Faerghus, bred to survive even the coldest winters. They were raised to fight, to protect, and to serve. They were not raised to care or to heal, or to talk about their feelings.

 _But,_ Felix realizes, _maybe we can learn. Together._

It physically hurts to open his mouth and spill his secrets, but it’s a good kind of pain. The pain that eventually leads to something greater. 

“It started on the training ground, one evening….”

**XXX**

They talk until Felix can’t anymore, and Sylvain takes over. The conversation quickly derails from serious to thinking of creative ways to kill Felix’s ex-boyfriend. 

(He has an ex-boyfriend now. The entire concept is strange to him, but it feels a little bit less monumental after giving it a name.) 

When it becomes too much, they switch to Ingrid’s almost fiancé, and in the end, Felix laughs at least once. One smile is nothing compared to all the tears, but it’s a start.

He falls asleep before noon, although he can’t exactly remember when. When he wakes up, Ingrid and Sylvain are gone. Felix feels sore, raw and exhausted. It still hurts, when he reaches for another body on the bed, only to find it empty.

Well... not completely empty. 

“I was wondering when you would wake up,” a calm, familiar voice says.

Felix turns around, the knife he keeps under his pillow aimed at the intruder’s throat.

His father looks mildly disappointed back at him, one eyebrow raised.

Felix drops the knife and buries his face back into his pillow. He’s feeling marginally better than yesterday, but he’s not ready for this conversation. 

“Stop hiding like a child, Felix, it’s unbecoming,” his father lectures him, his voice icy.

Felix groans into his pillow. “Go away, old man. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Neither did I think we would need to, and yet…” Felix can hear his father trying to find a polite way to describe this mess, like everyone isn’t aware of exactly what Felix has been doing, or perhaps more accurately, who has been doing him. “ _Unsettling_ news has reached me, and I rode to the monastery as fast as I could--” 

Felix cuts his father off before he can combust. “Spare me the pleasantries, we both know what this is about. Who wrote to you? Byleth? Seteth? The Boar?” He demands petulantly. 

“It was Ms. Casagranda.”

The healer. Of course. The one that examined him thoroughly and then lectured him on safe sex. Who saw every part of him, bruised and bare. Shame colors his cheeks red, and Felix feels hollow inside. 

If he wasn’t so emotionally drained from earlier today, he would have stalked out of this room already. But where would he have gone? His one sanctuary is gone, along with any hopes of ever leaving his father and all of his ideals and expectations behind. There is nowhere to run, no-one to turn to. Nobody but the man in front of him. 

He curls himself into a ball, away from his father. Clutches his pillow to his chest. He never felt so small, never felt so hopeless. Not since…. not since Glenn died. But then he at least had his anger to cling to. Now, there is only shame, curling in his stomach like hot iron, burning him from the inside out. 

_I don’t care about my father’s opinion of me,_ he reminds himself forcefully. Chants it in his mind like a mantra. But it’s a lie, and he’s so tired of lying.

Felix squeezes his eyes shut, willing the burning behind his eyelids away. “Just spit out what you want to say, old man,” he grits out. “Tell me how disappointed you are in me for fucking a man. Tell me how I should have known better, should have figured out he was a mass murderer. Tell me how disappointed Glenn would have been, and get this over with so we can go back to ignoring each other.”

“On the contrary. I think Glenn would have been very proud of how you saved that girl, Flayn.” 

Felix shoots up and turns around, his eyes wide. “Don’t bullshit me,” he threatens, his voice uneven. 

His father sighs, and shakes his head. “I am not. Flayn’s father told me about how you put yourself in danger to save her. You protected her with your life, against an opponent you knew you could not beat. Did the right thing, even if it meant turning a sword upon someone you…. _cared about_.” The way his father says it is as if it physically hurt him to speak them. “You acted like a true knight. And I think, if Glenn would have been here, he would have been very proud.”

Felix stares at his father, his heart beating loudly in his chest. “What….?” he trails off, his eyes wide in disbelief. “You’re not… mad?”

Rodrigue wrinkles his nose. “Oh, I am very displeased with you. An _affair_? With your _teacher_? What were you _thinking_ , Felix? I raised you better than that. How could you let him take advantage of you like that?”

“I’m not some damsel in distress! He didn’t take advantage of me!”

“The wounds on your neck tell a different story,” his father points out, not bothering to hide his distaste. 

Hastily, Felix hikes collar up until it covers the bruises and bite marks, the burns left by the ropes. They no longer feel like trophies. 

“He didn’t rape me! I liked it! I loved it! Every minute of it!” He sputters back, but as he says the words, he knows it’s not really the truth. Sometimes, Jeritza would lose control and go too far. Become too possessive. Felix had dismissed the uneasy feeling in his chest then, too addicted to the feeling of being desired above everything and everyone else. But now that it is over, now that his former lover’s alter ego has been revealed….

Felix turns his head away. He hasn’t eaten anything since this morning, and that’s probably a good thing because he suddenly feels sick in his stomach.

“Is there something you need to tell me, Felix?” his father asks. Well, it’s not really a question. It's a demand, delicately worded as if Felix is someone he needs to be careful with.

He's sick of people walking on eggshells around him, and it’s easier to be angry than to feel everything else inside of him. “You already know! Everyone knows! We don’t need to talk about this!”

“I think we do,” his father replies, completely unfazed. “We have allowed silence to fester between us for far too long. And although neither of us are… _adept…_ at discussing this, but I fear we have to.

“You--” Felix growls, fisting his hands into the sheets of his bed.

Rodrigue silences him with a single raise of his hand. “We will speak of this now, because next time you might not be so lucky to survive with a damaged reputation and some heavy bruising. Next time… we will have this conversation now, because I refuse to have it with your tombstone instead.”

They’re only a few feet apart, but suddenly they feel miles apart. Glenn is sitting behind him, or at least the ghost of him, all the regrets they both carry. Felix doesn't want to wonder what his father says to his brother's grave, but his mind does it anyway. The silence that stretches on is deafening, but not nearly as unbearable as his father’s sad eyes.

 _What would Glenn do?_ Felix thinks for a brief moment but then discards the thought. He refuses to live in the past, live his life only to carry out the wishes of people long gone. Life is for the living, damn it! 

He looks back to his father who is still sitting on the side of his bed. Now that Felix pays attention to his appearance, he notices that Rodrigue looks like he hasn’t slept in two days. He certainly hasn’t bathed or shaved. 

_He must have jumped on his horse the moment he received the news,_ he realizes. 

His father is still looking at him, wringing his hands uncomfortably. They both suck at this, Felix realizes. But his father is trying, and maybe, like with Sylvain and Ingrid earlier, he should too.

He takes a deep breath, picks a point on the wall, and forces himself to speak.

“I’m… never going to like a woman. Like… _that_ ,” he confesses. Each word is heavy on his tongue, hard to pronounce, to leave. A truth kept hidden so long that he doesn’t know how to speak it. “And I thought I could live with that. Hide it. I’m not… I’m not selfish. I know what is expected of me. But then Jeri-- _he_ came along and I…,” Felix swallows deeply. Hesitates on how to continue, and then loses the nerve altogether.

“Thank you for telling me,” his father says, somewhat warm, somewhat awkward. 

Very briefly he places his hand upon Felix’s shoulder like he often did when he was young. It doesn’t last more than a moment. It’s the first time they have touched in years, Felix realizes with a heavy heart. He missed it, even if he tried so hard not to.

When father continues his voice more formal and solemn. “You are correct. There are certain expectations placed upon you as my heir. We benefit from the privileges of nobility, but that means we must also carry the burdens,” he says. It’s a lecture Felix has heard before, when his father announced Glenn and Ingrid’s betrothal. “When I married your mother, it was not for love but for the good of the realm. But I _did_ grow to love her, because she gave me you and your brother. She was a good wife, and I will always love her in my own way.” 

_Even after she has died, even after your brother is gone, and we barely speak._ His father doesn’t say, but Felix hears the words anyway. 

It doesn't sound terrible, but at the same time it does. “I don’t think I can keep lying about who I am anymore. And I don’t think I want to.”

His father shakes his head sadly. “I didn’t say you had to. Your mother was the daughter of an important Dagdan noble. Because of our marriage, trade has always been abundant between our nations. As the next Duke of Fraldarius, your marriage will have to benefit the realm. It is your duty to your people. But that doesn’t mean we cannot find you a… male partner….,” his father trails off awkwardly and colors slightly before he adds: “Of suitable birth, of course. It isn’t that uncommon in Adrestia, I’ve been told.”

It isn’t. Dorothea has not been subtle in her pursuit of Ingrid, and Linhardt is too lazy to cover up his bedpartners, male and female. Jerti--- _his former lover_ , had been from the Empire too. He never understood Felix’s reflexive need to hide this part of who he was.

But his father did. “We’re not from Adrestia,” Felix reminds him. And there isn’t a country in all of Fodlan that cares more about its bloodlines and its heirs. 

He clutches the front of his shirt, his hand over his beating heart that rapidly pumps his blood through his body. The blood blessed - or cursed - with the Major Crest of Fraldarius. The first in centuries.

No matter what Sylvain thinks, Felix is no coward. He knows his duty, even if he hates it.

Rodrigue shakes his head. “No, we are not. But if my marriage to your mother taught me anything, then it is that there is a wealth of knowledge to be gained if you open up your mind for change. I believe I may have.. forgotten that, for a while. I will have to thank Ms. Flayn for reminding me.” 

“Flayn? What does she have to do with any of this?”

His father’s smile is uncomfortable. “She would not let me through this door before she ensured I had your best interests in mind. For a child so young, she possesses the persistence of a saint, and the wisdom of one too.”

Felix doesn’t want to know what Flayn told his father, but he oddly feels like he has to thank her for it anyway. He eyes the sweets he had bought for Jeritza. Maybe, instead of throwing them in the trash, he can find a better purpose for them. 

His father coughs awkwardly. “After you have graduated and after His Highness has finally been coronated, we will continue this conversation. You’re seventeen, and for now, you should shift your focus back on your studies.” 

Felix sighs in relief. That is still very far in the future. He doesn’t think he could handle another conversation like this with his father this year. 

“Your most recent grade for you Authority class was abysmal. I expect you to study hard, and not disappoint me.”

Felix doesn’t dare to look at his father. “... even if I already have?”

“You haven’t,” his father replies, his voice steady, like there isn’t a shadow of a doubt. “You’re an odd boy. Thick-headed in some ways. But you’re my son all the same. And I know that in the end, you will always do the right thing, even if it pains you. Glenn would have been proud of you. I know I am.”

Felix draws his knees up to his chest. “.... thank you, Father,” he mutters softly. From the corners of his eyes, he sees his father’s smile blindingly. He looks years younger, and Felix can’t remember the last time he saw him smile like that. 

(It was before the tragedy.) 

Or the last time he called Rodrigue father to his face.

(It was before Glenn died.)

Silence settles between them uncomfortably, and neither of them look at each other. There are a thousand things they still can’t talk about, and probably never will. Glenn still sits in between them, just like the late King and all the people who have died since then. But the distance between them no longer feels like a canyon. One conversation doesn’t fix all that is broken between them. 

But it’s a start.

**XXX**

That night he hears the Boar pace in his room, hour after hour. Felix never spent enough time in this room to notice, but now that he has spent two full nights in a row in his own bed it’s suddenly impossible to miss that Dimitri is awake, always. Felix can’t make out his whispers. Sometimes Dimitri's voice becomes louder, more threatening. Then it becomes softer, and he starts pleading. 

It’s not just keeping him from his sleep. It’s unsettling. Something is wrong, and Glenn always told him to trust his gut. And right now his every instinct is screaming at him to get up and do something, _anything_. 

But he doesn’t. Instead he waits and listens. Dimitri drops something on the ground, or maybe he throws it on purpose. Felix can't help but wonder why has nobody noticed before that Dimitri doesn’t sleep, ever?

He knows the answer, even if he doesn’t like it: _because nobody bothered to look deep enough._ Even Dedue, loyal as a dog, is happy to turn a blind eye to his master's imperfections. But he isn't the only one to blame. Felix has been otherwise occupied during the night until now, and Sylvain spends as much time warming someone else’s bed as he used to. He thinks back of all the times Dimitri waited in front of his door, a lance in hand. Like a predator, stalking his prey. 

Or like a tired, damaged man - balancing on the edge of madness - unable to sleep. 

He didn’t see it before. But the past few months - the past few days - have aged him beyond his seventeen years. Made him open his eyes to things he didn't want to see. And now that he’s looking, he can’t look away anymore. 

Jeritza made a fool out of him. _But_ , Felix thinks as he quietly hoists himself out of his bed, _nobody will ever have the pleasure of doing so again._ The past is the past, he can’t change it. But he can change this. With that thought in mind, he slips out of his door as quiet as a mouse and knocks on Dimitri’s door.

The footfalls quiet down, but the door remains closed. Felix knocks again. No reaction.

“Open up! I know you’re in there,” Felix hisses. “I could hear you talk to yourself for hours!”

A long pause. Then, a quiet voice: “My apologies, Felix. I will strive to be silent from now on.”

Felix could turn around and go back to sleep. But something in Dimitri’s voice is strange, even for the beast.

The professor has been training him as an assassin since the beginning of the month. At the time he was angry because he wanted to study for his swordmaster certification instead, but he has changed his mind now. Within less than a minute he has picked the lock with ease, makes a mental note to talk with Seteth about the security of the Crown Prince of Faerghus, and then pushes the door open.

The room looks like a storm passed through. Books are all over the ground, his clothes are everywhere and on Dimitri’s desk is a long piece of parchment, every inch of it scribbled with incoherent sentences. The drapes are half-closed, and through the gap, a sliver of moonlight shines directly on Dimitri’s bewildered face.

Felix steels his mind, marches in and closes the door behind him.

“What are you doing here, Felix?” Dimitri growls. His eyes are wide, and even in the dark Felix can see that his hands are shaking. 

“What the hell are _you_ doing?” Felix hisses back. “How long have you been doing-” he gestures wildly at all of Dimitri. “- this?”

Dimitri pushes a strand of hair from his face. It’s dirty, badly cared for. “I have merely been unable to sleep.”

“ _Bullshit,_ ” Felix spits back, and takes a step forward. “I bet you haven’t slept properly in weeks, in months-- in years!”

Dimitri doesn’t deny it, but he doesn’t look away either. “Why do you care, Felix?” He asks, his voice low and piercing. “You made it clear before that you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“I don’t want anything to do with that--- that mask you put up!” It reminds him too much of another blond man, and hurts twice as much for it. He can see the similarities between them now, and the revelation leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. “You’re a wolf, we both know that. Why bother hiding in sheep’s clothing?”

Dimitri laughs, high and shrieking. Deranged. “Then would you rather see me like this?” He gestures at himself. His undone uniform, the bags beneath his eyes, the madness glittering behind them. The chivalrous facade is gone, and in the azure moonlight, the Boar’s true self could not have been more clear to Felix.

“No,” Felix admits bitterly, truthfully. “No, I would rather have my best friend back. But he died in Duscur, and just like my brother, he’s not coming back.” He swallows deeply. “I have made peace with that.”

Dimitri’s smile falters. “Then why are you still here?”

“Because…,” Felix starts, but suddenly the words elude him. 

_Why is he here?_ There are no answers in this room to the questions that keep him up. Dimitri’s room is no sanctuary, no holy place. If he prays for forgiveness here, he won’t receive it. 

Before he can find the answer, Dimitri scoffs. “Go to sleep, Felix,” he dismisses and turns away abruptly, back to his desk, to the furious writings, written in red ink.

Felix is confused. Tired beyond compare. But he’s never backed down before, and he isn’t starting now. “No.” He says resolutely and takes a step closer to Dimitri. Another step, and then another. All the way until he is standing right in front of him, close enough count every hair out of place, to taste his breath. “Not until you do, too. Not until you tell me why you have been avoiding me since….”

“I thought that is what you wanted.”

“It isn’t!” _Not anymore, at least._

Dimitri looks down on him, and Felix misses the days they were the same height dearly. “You have seen the monster that lurks within me. The beast you claim I am. It disgusts you, don’t pretend it doesn’t.” Felix looks away. Shame flares up within his chest, and guilt too. “So tell me Felix, why are you here?”

Felix narrows his eyes, and forces himself to look Dimitri straight in the eye. “Because you’re not a monster. Not…. not always,” he says resolutely, far stronger than he feels. Then, he adds far softer, his voice barely above a whisper.: “I would know. I slept with one. Both the monster and the man.”

Admitting it hasn’t stopped hurting, even if talking about him has gotten a little bit easier. 

The moment he says those words, Dimitri’s entire demeanor changes. “I swear, Felix. When I find him, I will make him pay for what he did to you,” he snarls dangerously, and Felix has no doubt whatsoever that Dimitri will tear Jeritza to pieces given the chance. 

Felix rolls his eyes, entirely unimpressed. Dimitri will have to get in line behind Ingrid, Sylvan, his father and most importantly, himself. It should be heartwarming to hear all his friends pledge to kill his ex, but it’s not. It’s insulting.

“He did nothing to me I didn’t want him to. Why can’t people understand that?” Well, besides the lies and the murder. But that's not the point here.

Dimitri looks at him strangely. “Because you’re _you_. You’re Felix Hugo Fraldarius. Strong. Independent. Honest, even if it hurts.” Felix has to fight the blush from creeping up to his face. Even now, looking like an absolute mess and feeling probably even worse, Dimitri still has a way with words, and after everything Felix has said to him, he doesn’t deserve this praise. “You have always had an unshakable resolve and set of principles. I can’t imagine you ever compromising on them. So he must have forced you.”

“He didn’t,” Felix bites back, folding his arms in front of his chest.

“Why do you defend him still?” Dimitri growls back, a hint of fury in his voice.

“I am not. Believe me, the next time I see him, I will rain down hell upon him for how he humiliated me. For his lies. And for everything else, too.” He pauses for a second. Brings his hand up to rest on his heart. It’s beating furiously in his chest. “But… I wanted it. Wanted him.”

Shamir had not spared him the details during his statement. During the four months in which they slept together, the Death Knight slaughtered at least five entire families. There are thousands of accounts of merciless murder that are credited to him. Perhaps even more damning is the memory of Jeritza's his face right before Flayn teleported them away. The madness wasn’t just lurking within anymore at that point, it was everywhere. It was in his eyes, in the way he moved, the way he swung his weapon. But it hadn’t been the first time. Felix had felt that same madness late at night, when Jeritza fucked him mercilessly, his hands around his throat, his words possessive to the point of obsessive. 

Felix knows what a monster looks like, what it feels like, what it sounds like. But during those same four months Felix had also seen Jeritza smile. Not deranged, not murderously, but carefully, lovingly. He had felt his lips on his own time and again, worshiping his body like a temple. And he had witnessed the fear within his lover, even if he hadn’t understood it back then.

Even now, humiliated and broken, Felix doesn’t truly understand. But the scars make him a little wiser.

He looks at Dimitri. Wills himself to look past the similarities with Jeritza. Look past the boy he adored as a child. Past the monster that replaced him. Keeps looking, until the answer is suddenly as clear as day. 

“Love makes you blind,” Felix says, looking at Dimitri pointedly, his voice a little higher, a little more strained than he would like. It turns out that Felix does recognize love when he sees it, even if only in hindsight. 

Dimitri recoils from him as if Felix physically assaulted him. 

“Did you _love_ him?” He asks, his voice uneven and his eyes wide with disbelief. 

“Yes. I still do,” Felix admits. Every word he speaks - however true - is another knife through his chest.

Felix wishes he didn’t care about Dimitri’s opinion. Wishes he could still pretend the way the Boar’s obvious disgust in his tone doesn’t affect him in any way. 

“Even now? After you know all the wretched crimes he has committed, the many lives he has taken? And you _still_ love him?”

“I do,” Felix repeats, a little louder. He feels humiliated. “Granted, not as much as I hate him. But it’s not easy to stop loving someone. Not for me, at least.”

Dimitri’s voice is deceptively detached. “You had no problem doing so after the Western Rebellion.”

“No, I did,” he admits, unable to look at Dimitri. “You think I am honest, but the truth is--” The truth is that Felix spent weeks, months - years! - muffling his screams into his pillow, fighting back tears and memories alike. “The truth is, I’ve always felt entirely too much. And I have never been able to stop from feeling the way I do, no matter how hard I tried.”

“Felix…,” Dimitri whispers his name like a prayer. The pale moonlight makes him look frailer than he is. “What… what do you mean…?”

Felix takes a step forward, and then another. Outside, the first drops of an autumn rain patter against the window. Inside Felix a storm is raging, and lighting lights up the only path ahead. He isn't afraid.

Dimitri licks his lips nervously, but he doesn’t flinch or turn away when Felix closes the distance between them. 

“You may be a beast,” Felix whispers hoarsely. He lifts himself up to his toes, takes Dimitri’s face between his hands, and leans so close that they’re only a breath apart, and whispers: “But you’re still mine.”

A tear trails down Dimitri’s cheek. Just one. “Felix…” He's shaking, they both are. 

“And I won’t forget that again,” Felix adds, his heart beating loudly in his throat.

Dimitri opens his mouth to say something, but Felix isn’t done. He has wasted enough time on lies, either of his own making or anyone else’s. Kissing Dimitri is nothing like kissing Jeritza. It’s slow, careful. Loaded with history, regrets, but also something else, something long buried. Dimitri isn’t as warm underneath his touch, isn’t as tall. But when Dimitri wraps his arms around him and holds him close, the same desperation lurks underneath. Felix leans in more, tastes every drop of desire on his lips and returns it with his own, quickly becoming addicted to every push and pull of Dimitri's body against his own.

He’s always been a little mad for both the monster and the man.

**XXX**

His father stays until the end of the week. Felix isn’t privy to the conversation Rodrigue, Seteth and Rhea have behind closed doors, but Flayn assures him that she talked to all of them until they all agreed that the most important thing is that they’re both safe.

People are still staring at him, whispering behind his back. His reputation is in tatters, but it doesn't bother him. Felix keeps his chin up, turns his face towards the sun and lets the shadows fall behind him. 

Flayn invented a game in which she keeps throwing food at him to chop up in mid-air. It’s wasteful but fun, and a perfect outlet for all his misplaced aggression. Sylvain joins in after a bit, quickly followed by Ingrid who is more than willing to eat whatever he slices up. 

The sun is high in the sky but a cool breeze keeps him from overheating. His friends are making fun of him, but Flayn is smiling brightly. 

From a distance, Dimitri watches him like a hawk. His watchful gaze that once felt like a prison now feels like a shield. Felix's hand flies up to the place where his shoulder meets his neck, covered up by the collar of his uniform. Underneath, a new set of dark bruises overlap the old ones. Felix meets Dimitri's eyes for a second. He doesn’t know exactly where they’re standing, but it’s a better place than before.

Tonight, Felix will wake up screaming Jeritza’s name again. Tomorrow his heart will still be broken and Faerghus will still be in ruins. But right now, none of that matters. It's a beautiful autumn afternoon and Felix is smiling, if only a little. The long summer is finally over, and maybe - just, maybe - they will all be alright. Not today, not tomorrow, but someday. 

Until then, they have each other.

**X**

**XX**

**XXX**

**XX**

**X**

Remire burns and bleeds, and the Death Knight rejoices. His blade hungers, his hands itch. He cuts down one body after another, but no matter how plentifully their lifeforce flows, it is not enough. It never is.

Then, he hears a familiar voice. It's nothing but a battle cry, but the Death Knight has made him sing in pain so many times, he would recognize that delicious sound anywhere. His heart beats faster in his chest, and his hunger grows tenfold.

He beats his horse until it brings him towards his prey, his beloved - _his_! Felix looks as delectable as he did the moment they parted, and the Death Knight cannot wait to take him again. To have him, like he always should have. 

His lover is surrounded by a wall of well-trained children, each of them glowering at him with the intent to kill. For once it doesn’t excite the Death Knight. All he can think of is Felix, screaming in pleasure and pain underneath him. 

_Yes,_ the Death Knight thinks,licking his lips. _Soon I will have him again. And this time, I will make sure that Felix can never leave me again._

Buried deep within, a weak boy cries for mercy, but not for himself.

> _the end of part one_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cries* They just... really love each other... okay? Rodrigue is a good man, if an imperfect father. You can rip that from my dead, cold hands. 
> 
> Anyway, somehow the chapter without the porn was the one that took me the longest to write, but I guess there is a lot of emotional porn. Oh well. I really enjoyed it. The Kinkmeme prompt is fulfilled. In the end, I decided against making the Dimilix scene at the end graphic. This story was more about Felix and Jeritza anyway, and Felix discovering who he is and what he likes. (So what if he has fucked up taste in men, Sylvain? You have no right to speak!) Anyway, the sequel will be Dimilix centric, with a dash of Jerilix (that's a ship name apparently!)
> 
> THANK ALL OF YOU! For you reviews, your twitter ramblings, your recommendations... I have been enjoying them all from my little dark anonymous corner, and without you I couldn't have (unintentionally) written the longest kinkmeme fill to date... in less than two weeks. Whoops. Sorry, not sorry. Shout out to several reviewers who noted that Felix actually behaved like a true knight last chapter! I shamelessly allowed Rodrigue to agree. Let me know what you thought, and until next time! I made a series, so follow that if you want to be notified when I post the sequel.
> 
> Edit: Quietly de-anon'ed this because even if it is smutty trash, it's my smutty trash and I'm a little proud of this monster despite *gestures at all of it.* I'm on twitter as [ingrimasname](https://twitter.com/ingrimasname)


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